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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656143">volatile times</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltfics/pseuds/saltfics'>saltfics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>when I watch the world burn (all I think about is you) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red White &amp; Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Characters will also be added as they show up, Gen, Henry Needs A Hug, I will single-handedly make this a tag, Injury, M/M, Monster Apocalypse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Road Trips, They're sad and stressed and confused but they're trying</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:55:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>64,832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltfics/pseuds/saltfics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Here’s what movies don’t tell you about the end of the world: chances are it’s not what you expected it to be. Not a loving family, holding on to each other for as long as they can. Or a man and his dog, desperate for any sort of companionship in an empty world. And it might not be a ragtag group of strangers, just fighting to live another day.</p><p>Sometimes, it’s just a pair of overstressed enemies-turned-tentative-friends, who somehow manage to do all of those things at once."</p><p>Alex and Henry make the drive to Texas, finding the world and themselves changed along the way.</p><p>aka The Roadtrip of that Monster Apocalypse AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>when I watch the world burn (all I think about is you) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>207</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. as the night divides us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, again! Reminder that this is part TWO of the monster apocalypse AU, there's a monster of a one-shot that comes before it (and yes, you should probably read it beforehand). I mean I can't tell you what to do, but it's not that bad, I promise. ;)</p><p>Also, I have a short apocalypse playlist that I'm really into so expect nonsensical lyric titles for every chapter. I'm a little bit sorry about it. Just a bit.</p><p>Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to write the sequel! I hope you enjoy this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Here’s what movies don’t tell you about the end of the world: chances are it’s not what you expected it to be. Not a loving family, holding on to each other for as long as they can. Or a man and his dog, desperate for any sort of companionship in an empty world. And it might not be a ragtag group of strangers, just fighting to live another day.</p>
<p>Sometimes, it’s just a pair of overstressed enemies-turned-tentative-friends, who somehow manage to do all of those things at once.</p>
<p>Driving isn’t as relaxing as it used to be when Alex has to avoid abandoned cars and assorted junk that have made their way into the road in the place of other drivers. They passed by some people as they made their way out of the city, but other than a curious glance, most didn’t react to their presence. He’s not sure if he would have stopped if someone flagged them down, and he’s grateful he hasn’t had to find out yet. The memory of the last time one of them tried to be trusting towards a voice in need is very fresh in his mind. Mostly because it was yesterday, but also because it might have been the scariest thing to happen in an already fairly horror-inspired apocalypse.</p>
<p>Alex steals a glance towards the passenger seat. Henry is hunched over the map, studying the line Alex has marked with a pencil, absently pinching the edge of his jaw with two fingers as he thinks.</p>
<p>“Something wrong there?” he asks, shifting his gaze between him and the road.</p>
<p>“I… no, I don’t think so. Or, well, I don’t know,” Henry shrugs, sitting up in his seat, the quest for the map’s great truth abandoned.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“I mean it just occurred to me that apparently I don’t know shit about American geography.”</p>
<p>Alex snorts. “Can you tell right from left? With the map in front of you, I think that’s all you have to do right now.”</p>
<p>He knows where he’s going, for the most part, so soon Henry puts the map down altogether. It’s not as if they won’t be able to stop in the middle of the road if he’s uncertain of the way. </p>
<p>Silence falls between them, giving Alex a chance to pay more attention to his surroundings. He really should have picked a more talkative companion.</p>
<p>His throat dries up as he watches the city around him. He’s been to New York enough times to know it’s not supposed to look like this. Empty streets stretch in every direction, gray and cold and lifeless, still trapped in the bleakest of winters. Most stores still have Christmas decorations out from two months ago, and they paint a stark picture behind the broken windows, between black, sticky stains Alex is all too familiar with. It’s a mockery, a satire, though he can’t pinpoint exactly at which of a hundred different things it’s poking fun. Alex’s hands tighten around the steering wheel, feeling the frustration wrap itself around his throat. It’s a feeling that has kept coming over and over again in the past couple of months, especially when he lets himself think and it hasn’t really gotten any easier. He can’t move on from something he has refused to face.</p>
<p>“Alex?” Henry asks. “What’s the matter?”</p>
<p>He snaps out of it and tries to fake a smile that convinces neither of them. “Nothing. This is just… weird.”</p>
<p>Henry sighs. His eyes go distant as he turns his attention out the window. “It’s harder to pretend, isn’t it? I mean, even when you have to lock yourself up every night, even with the-the <em> things </em>, you still have only those four walls as a reference point. It’s easy to believe that despite everything, the world will still be waiting outside for you.” He exhales heavily through his nose, shifting his weight around, but he never refocuses his gaze. “It makes no sense to believe, but you do it anyway.”</p>
<p>Alex wants to look at him fully, for more than a stolen glance, but he can’t stop the car to do that without making it weird. “Yeah… You did that too?”</p>
<p>Henry scoffs and the sound rings hollow between them. “I took it a step further.” He sighs when Alex nudges at him to go on. “Okay, but don’t make too much fun of me for it. I’m trying to keep myself sane here.”</p>
<p>“I’ll give you one free pass. Spill.”</p>
<p>“Is it weird to say that sometimes I manage to kid myself into thinking that maybe this is all happening here? That maybe it’s only this place that got the brunt of it and my-my family is… safe and sound back in England? Lord knows all your bloody movies seem to imply that if the world was destroyed it would deem your country the most important target first.”</p>
<p>Alex bites back the laugh at the last statement, as he also swallows down a barrage of other emotions that are starting to stir. The excuse Henry gives is cute, childish even, until he registers the way his voice caught. Henry is trying to keep himself sane, yes, and he’ll do anything to achieve that, not because he’s optimistic or naive, but because he’s alone, an ocean away from the rest of his family with no hope of seeing them again. He’s trapped here. </p>
<p><em> At least you’ll know </em>. Wasn’t that how Alex convinced him to defy the danger and the threat of heartbreak to come with him? With his family, he doesn’t have that luxury.</p>
<p>He wonders if that’s what urged him to agree.</p>
<p>“All right, you may laugh, but please spare me from this judgmental silence. Haven’t I suffered enough?”</p>
<p>Alex shakes the thought away. “No, no. Free pass. Besides, you have a point. Though, wouldn’t the rest of the world come help us? I mean, they don’t hate us <em> that </em> much.” Henry clears his throat. “Don’t answer that. You ass.”</p>
<p>Henry chuckles, so Alex lets himself grin. Still, a thought swirls around his head, solidifying into a shape that he catches on the tip of his tongue before he can voice it. He doesn’t consider his words much, certainly not with Henry, but there’s a tentative ease between them in this moment and he’s not sure how much he can poke at it before it breaks. His smile sobers up with a sigh and he lets the words slip with his breath. “All jokes aside…” he says, turning to look at him, “I’m sure your family is okay, regardless of the situation. They have the means—”</p>
<p>“Alex, <em> watch it </em>!”</p>
<p>He slams on the brakes on instinct before he turns to look at what spooked him. He’s not a second too late either. The car screeches to a halt at the entrance to the Holland Tunnel, and still bumps hard with the car abandoned in front of them. Alex grunts as the seat belt digs against his shoulder. There’s a thump to his side and he sees Henry’s hand has slammed onto the dashboard when he reached out to protect himself. His eyes are shot wide, and the outstretched arm is trembling slightly, but Henry seems relatively unharmed, or at least no more harmed than he was before.</p>
<p>Killing the Prince of England—or whatever his title is—within the first hour of the road-trip would be very on-brand with the year he’s having.</p>
<p>“What the <em> fuck </em>?” Alex whispers, stunned, when he turns his attention to the blockage.</p>
<p>It’s not a parked car that blocks their way. It’s a jumbled wreck of a vehicle that looks like it was thrown at the tunnel’s entrance before landing here. Glass from the shattered windows covers every surface, and the metal is bent inward on the roof. Silver paint peeks at places, but most of it is covered in that black goo that has dried into its surface in large pools and teardrop-edged waterfalls on its sides.</p>
<p>Alex doesn’t have time to block the thought from his mind. <em> Were they leaving the city too? </em> So he clamps his mouth shut, even though he <em> knows </em> Henry must be thinking the same thing.</p>
<p>That consideration does not go both ways. Because Henry, like the asshole that he is, says this:</p>
<p>“There are never any bodies…” he murmurs, eyes glued to the wreck in front of them. “What happens to the bodies?”</p>
<p>“Shut the <em> fuck up, </em> ” Alex snaps, turning the engine on again and going around the remnants of the vehicle. Of all fucking times to have to enter the tunnel. Even with its lights on, he still feels like the walls are closing in on him. Like he’ll get trapped here, caged inside a stranger’s car, waiting to be picked apart at sunset, or smashed into the walls, with no sign he was ever there save for a fucking stain that nobody knows what it <em> is, </em> to begin with! What happens to the bodies, he asked, like Alex hasn’t been agonizing over how he could ever find out what happened to his family if they’re not there because he cannot find them <em> dead </em>either.</p>
<p>“Alex, I—”</p>
<p>“Just be fucking quiet for a moment, alright? <em> Please. </em>”</p>
<p>The rest of the tunnel is not in a better condition. He switches between the two lanes far too often to avoid other discarded vehicles, some parked, some picked apart and tossed aside like garbage. He tries not to think about what they’ll do if they find their way blocked on both lanes, and thankfully he doesn’t have to find out. When the light from the other side reaches them unobstructed, Alex sighs in relief, deflating in his seat.</p>
<p>“Welcome to New Jersey,” he mumbles, pressing on the pedal now that the road ahead of them is more visible. It’s when Henry speaks up again, his voice curt and measured, that he notices he hasn’t actually said a word for the past ten minutes.</p>
<p>“Would you… mind if I opened the window a bit?”</p>
<p>“It’s winter.”</p>
<p>Henry shifts his weight, looking all wound-up and uncomfortable. His hand twitches where he’s rested it against the window and his lips press into a thin line. “I just want some air.”</p>
<p>“O-<em> kay </em>,” Alex frowns, breaking the word, stretching the syllables in disbelief. “Since when do you ask for permission anyway, your Highness?”</p>
<p>Crispy cold air ruffles his curls as Henry cracks the window open. He has his head tilted slightly upwards, angled so the air can brush against his forehead, and he closes his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose.</p>
<p>“Are you okay? Please tell me you’re not carsick.”</p>
<p>“I’m fine.” His eyes flutter open, but he doesn’t look any less tense than before.</p>
<p>Okay then. If Henry wants to suffer in silence, he can go ahead and sulk. Alex doesn’t mind. He’s driving anyway, and maybe it’s not as relaxing as it should be, and maybe he’s paranoid about the sun levels and how soon they’ll have to stop, and it’d be <em> nice </em> to have a person to give him an alternate idea or at least some reassurance that he’s doing the right thing. But it’s fine. He’s fine.</p>
<p>“You know, when I told you to come with me, I thought you’d keep me company.” He lasted a solid five minutes.</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I phased out of the car there for a moment,” Henry retorts, without even turning to look at him.</p>
<p>Alex rolls his eyes. “Well, you’re awfully quiet.”</p>
<p>“Well, I thought that’s what you wanted. How about you decide what you want of me and let me know?”</p>
<p>He short-circuits for a second before he remembers what Henry is referring to. “Is that why you’re so prickly?”</p>
<p>“I’m not <em>prickly</em>,” he says, mimicking the accent. He starts to say something and gives up, sighs, opens his mouth again and lets whatever words he had fade into a sigh. It takes him another full minute of silence, heavy with expectation over him to get the words out. “I know why you told me to be quiet before, I do, but…I don’t understand you. Why did you want me to come that badly?”</p>
<p>“Honestly?”</p>
<p>“Please.”</p>
<p>Alex turns his eyes back to the road, his fingers twisting around the steering wheel. A nasty taste covers his mouth that he can’t swallow, leaving his throat tight and sandpaper dry. “Because I didn’t want to wonder what happened to you. Isn’t that also why you followed?”</p>
<p>Henry nods twice, fast, like on reflex. “Yes, but why…?” He trails off, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“If that sentence was supposed to end with ‘do you care’ I’m going to stop this car and kick your ass.” </p>
<p>He chuckles, which is really a proof of his guilt, but considering how unwarranted his yelling was before, Alex gives him another free pass. </p>
<p>“Also, that place was hell, Henry. You did… a good job, admittedly, of keeping it together, but it was a hellhole, man. Those things roamed <em> the halls </em>.”</p>
<p>A shudder runs through the length of his spine and Alex feels a prick of guilt to have reminded him of that. Of course, Henry knows. He’s the one who <em> saw </em> them.</p>
<p>His answer must not have been good enough though, for something is still stirring inside Henry’s mind, lurking behind blue eyes and shrouding them in shadow.</p>
<p>“Whatever you’re stressing about, let it go,” Alex says. “It’s the end of the world. We have enough problems without adding each other to the list. I was a jerk before. But… well… I’m kind of glad you’re here?”</p>
<p>Henry bites back a laugh, but he’s grinning, and he ends up with a surprisingly charming expression. With his teeth on his lower lip, his smile bright behind it, it looks shy.</p>
<p>Alex’s stomach flips over twice. He didn’t realize how glad he was not to be alone until now.</p>
<p>“Can you make it sound like a statement rather than a question?”</p>
<p>“Nope.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough.”</p>
<p>They spend the next hour more comfortable in each other’s presence, chatting about this and that. The radio is all static and they didn’t find an AUX cord in the car, so there’s no music to fill the space between them. Alex starts humming after a point, then full-on starts singing when Henry doesn’t protest the sound of his voice in a closed-off space he can’t easily run away from. Well, he could jump out of the moving vehicle. He wonders if he considered it. But he keeps singing, and Henry grins, though he refuses to join. </p>
<p>Alex vows that he’ll get him to sing by the end of this trip.</p>
<p>Two hours in on the ride, he tries to peek at Henry’s wristwatch. 2 pm. “What time’s the sunset? Do you know?”</p>
<p>Quick like a curse, the words make Henry’s body go rigid. A look of discomfort twists his features, and it feels like an odd kind of defeat, to have been spared of this sour expression during the singing only to bring it forth like this. Alex didn’t forget how dangerous this road trip is supposed to be, but he allowed himself to bask in the illusion, to let the rush of hollering his favorite song flow vibrant through his veins, and the sight of Henry’s smile ease some of their worries. And with one stupid (vital) question, Alex chased away all their hard-earned comfort, shoved it right out the window to die in the cold.</p>
<p>“Around 5.30,” says Henry, turning to look out the window.</p>
<p>“You’ve marked the time?”</p>
<p>“I’ve written down everything I know about them actually…” He pauses, swallowing hard. “Most of everything. I-I didn’t describe… last night…when—”</p>
<p>“I get it,” Alex interrupts, wishing Henry would just stop thinking about this, even though he knows they could kill every single one of those stupid bastards and he would never, ever forget. “Where?”</p>
<p>“There’s a journal in the backpack. But, er—” He looks away with a pained grimace.</p>
<p>Alex snorts. “You have personal stuff inside?” Red blooms on Henry’s cheeks, a true betrayal of his guilt and a rather convenient solution for Alex: it’s a much better color on him than that sickly pallor he gets at the mention of the <em> things, </em>so if all it takes to dispel it is to embarrass him, then Alex is very willing to put in the extra effort. “Why did you write it down anyway?”</p>
<p>“I thought it might help someone one day.”</p>
<p>“What? So you’re going to just give it—” He stops, eyes widening as his mouth clamps shut. Realization settles in, digging deep into his skin to push each bone of his spine, one by one into shape. Rigid and hard and impossible to move. “I highkey want to tell you to shut up again.”</p>
<p>Henry huffs. “I just wanted to be useful to someone.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, tell them yourself.”</p>
<p>“Alex...”</p>
<p>“What other contingency plans did you have in case you died, Henry?”</p>
<p>Henry shifts his body towards him, and though he doesn’t reach out, his hand twitches on his lap. The crease between his brows is smoothened by the softness in his eyes as he watches him intently, trying to understand. “Why are you getting so mad about this?”</p>
<p>Alex takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with air to push against all the frustration, to crack the shell of fury his fear is hiding behind. He’ll press it all into a neat little ball and breathe it out with all the rest of the useless stuff inside him, because he’s so tired of pouring all the stress of the past few months into one person. The person who believed in him enough to risk his life just to know he made it home. Henry’s not even mad at him at this point. There’s so much understanding in his gaze, the blue of his eyes clear and inviting like the sky on a warm summer morning, luring him into the sun. And he doesn’t deserve it.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m just—”</p>
<p>“It’s all right—”</p>
<p>“It’s not <em> all right </em> !” he yells, then swears again at the volume of his voice. “Shit. I’m sorry, but none of this is all right, Henry! No, it’s not <em> okay </em> for you to be thinking about people finding your stuff when you get <em> killed </em>. It’s not okay for us to be in each other’s presence just to make sure we’re not dead! It’s not okay that I’m terrified of what I’ll find back home or that- that you don’t even have the choice! You know when our next meeting was supposed to be? In that state dinner—no! In that stupid New Year’s Eve party that we were all so excited about, and then we never got to throw! We were supposed to regret getting drunk together, not…not how we didn’t call our families one last time before communications went down…” His words end on an exhale and it’s suddenly too quiet, too much, too real. “… you know?” Alex adds, like an idiot, but he can’t even turn to look at Henry, though he can feel his gaze burning holes into the side of his face.</p>
<p>“Pull over.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Pull <em> over </em>.”</p>
<p>Alex brings the car to a halt.</p>
<p>Whatever he means to do, Henry hesitates, shifting his weight around in his seat, his eyes looking everywhere but at him. Then… then he leans forward and, despite how tense Alex is, he wraps his ridiculously long arms around him, using a hand on his back to nudge him deeper into his chest. He smells like rosehip and citrus and when the <em> fuck </em> did he have time to shower?</p>
<p>He opens his mouth to say something, <em> anything, </em>maybe to protest the contact, even if they spent most of the previous night holding each other close. He can’t find his words. It’s his turn to shut up now and he lets himself relax, pressing his face into Henry’s shoulder, waiting for the stroke of inspiration that will tell him what he needs to say.</p>
<p>It comes a full minute later, long after his fingers have tightened on the back of Henry’s shirt. “… Thank you.”</p>
<p>Henry’s voice is even when he speaks, but they’re too close to each other for Alex not to feel how he shudders at the thought. “Thank you for getting me out of there.”</p>
<p>They pull back a moment later. Their eyes meet and Alex realizes he doesn’t feel like saying anything further. Of all the things that could shut him up, this is the weirdest one of all. He grins at him instead and turns on the ignition.</p>
<p>“We should stop somewhere, set up for the night,” Henry suggests. Alex doesn’t fail to notice the slight red dusting of his cheeks again, or the way he keeps stealing glances at him as if he’s looking for something. When the car is already cruising along the highway, and he still hasn’t found whatever he’s searching for, Henry adds, “So… New Year’s Eve?”</p>
<p>“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have even invited you. I don’t know why I said that.” Henry throws his head back and laughs. It’s contagious. “No, really!” Alex insists between barely concealed laughter. “I realize now it was a dickish move, but you definitely were not on the list.”</p>
<p>“So glad I’ve trusted the rest of my life to you.”</p>
<p>“You know what? June might have made me invite you. You can thank her when we see her again.”</p>
<p>“Thank her for potentially inviting me to the party that you did not end up throwing, after my supposed best friend deemed me unworthy of American debauchery? Sure, I’ll make a note of it.”</p>
<p>Alex mocks a glare in his direction, “And you wonder why you were not invited.”</p>
<p>A smile spreads on his face, lightening up the still lingering signs of exhaustion like it’s defying them. The hair on the side where they touched is pressed and tousled, and it’s so messy and boyish and unraveled, Alex can almost kid himself into thinking they’re two friends on a genuine road trip. Like Henry is just Henry, and Alex is just Alex, and having turned their fake friendship into a real one, he’s showing him around the country, taking him home for the weekend. And it hurts, just a bit, in twin spots behind his eyes, in that place where the ribs close over his heart. It’s a lie and he can’t have it and it hurts.</p>
<p>He smiles back anyway. Until the car stops and they have to frantically make themselves safe for the night, he can pretend.</p>
<p>“Eyes on the road, Alex,” Henry says, brows furrowed in confusion, though his lips are still upturned.</p>
<p>He shakes the thought away and does as instructed. “I still think that since you’re not driving you should be my fake radio.”</p>
<p>“Nobody wants that.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, I could use a laugh.”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Alex.” </em>
</p>
<p> He’s definitely going to get him to sing during this road trip.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. making the past an unreachable place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Woot! Chapter Two! Okay, we can do this!</p>
<p>I'm eternally grateful to all you lovelies who left a comment on the previous chapter. This fic is by far the least popular one I have in terms of how many people read it, but you're so vocal about it and I appreciate it so so much! (Please keep it up ;u; )</p>
<p>Hope you enjoy the new chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>He remembers a time when sunsets were considered romantic. And though it’s well known that fear of dying can be an incredible turn-on for some people, Alex is not sure the dread that coils tighter in his gut the lower the sun dips into the horizon is really doing it for him. Around 2.30 pm they find a place to barricade themselves in for the night. They haven’t gotten far, but with the late start this morning and since they still don’t know how long it can realistically take them to reinforce a new place, it’s safer to take the first day as a test run, stop a little early.</p>
<p>They’re driving through Pennsylvania when Alex notices the sign and takes an exit towards what looks like a private club or a community center. There are a couple of different buildings there, but the bar seems easy enough to block, with only a few small windows and two doors, while the walls have built-in stone on the outside. The large lawn around them looks beautiful even in the wintertime, and it brings a feeling of peace that’s quickly replaced by that familiar frustration he swallows down. He can’t deny how he misses the time when things were simple enough for him to just lie on the grass and relax, but he can sure as hell bury it down for as long as possible. Hey, in no movie was there ever an apocalypse survivor with healthy coping mechanisms.</p>
<p>They work in silence at first, their battle plan already discussed on the way there. One will go inside to check the place is empty. As soon as he gives the okay, get all the stuff from the car and put it inside. All of it, don’t leave anything behind. Dump it all inside and immediately start securing the area. The tools are in their own separate backpack for easy access. Break what you must. Don’t let them in.</p>
<p>Alex takes one of the two guns and heads inside the building, ignoring Henry’s protests that he should be the one to do it. The red neon sign of the bar still flickers on and off. <em> OPEN </em>it says, then changes its mind like the whole place is a Schroedinger’s cat of a dwelling, both empty and full until Alex takes a peek.</p>
<p>The door is unlocked, which is both convenient and terrifying, and Alex releases the safety of the gun before he walks in. It definitely used to be some sort of community center or club, judging by the large tables lined up, the empty space left for a makeshift stage. It’s in shambles now, tables and chairs upturned, the various instruments on the side of the stage dumped and pushed together on the side. Broken bottles litter the floor and glasses have been left out. But other than that, it’s surprisingly okay. There are no stains of black nor red around and Alex will take signs of mass panic over signs of mass carnage any day.</p>
<p>After he double checks all the rooms, he goes outside to find Henry. He’s halfway out of the car, one leg outside, one on the driver’s side, having switched in case of emergency. The tension in his shoulders loosens at the sight of Alex.</p>
<p>“All good!”</p>
<p>Henry nods and starts getting their things out. Most of them are in the trunk, but they keep two backpacks in the backseat, the ones with their fundamental supplies in case there’s a need to leave quickly. Henry takes them out and Alex comes closer to take one from him so they can move them inside. It’s not <em> quite </em> what Henry has in mind.</p>
<p>No, his Royal Highness pushes his left arm through both the straps of one of them, then uses his right arm to also throw the second one over his shoulder, before sauntering past Alex with a small smile.</p>
<p>Alex blinks. Well… <em> what</em>?</p>
<p>“Show off,” he mutters under his breath, too quiet to be heard.</p>
<p>“What?” Henry calls from up ahead.</p>
<p>“I said don’t drop them!”</p>
<p>They store everything inside, clean up as much as they can in as little time as possible, then get to work obstructing the windows. They break some tables to make panels, they move furniture around in front of the doors. They don’t speak, save for the occasional question or instruction; the clock on the wall is watching them, moving forward without mercy, ready to take advantage of the slightest of distractions.</p>
<p>“I… I think it looks good?” Alex asks, taking a step back from the now covered door. He looks around the large room. All the windows are barred. “You okay in there?” He calls out to Henry, who had taken the extra windows in the kitchen and bathrooms, as well as the back door.</p>
<p>Henry’s head peaks from the kitchen door. “I think I’m finished here as well.” His eyes drift to the clock and he visibly swallows. “We have about an hour and a half left.” When he turns back to Alex, he forces a small smile on his face. At the very least, Alex appreciates the effort. “Dinner?”</p>
<p>“Sit your ass down, Your Highness. I’ll be your royal chef for the night.”</p>
<p>“I can help—”</p>
<p>“See, I’m not sure that’s true,” he teases but pats his shoulder as he walks past him and into the kitchen. “It’s fine, you can declutter a nice place for us to sit.”</p>
<p>Alex checks the cupboards and the freezer first to spare their own supplies. There aren’t a lot of ingredients that haven’t expired he can work with. If he’s honest, he’s much too tempted by the frozen pizzas in there because who knows when they’ll be able to have pizza again, even a shitty one, even if he’ll lose so much face to Henry after making a big deal about his cooking skills. He pokes deeper inside the freezer, leaning forwards so much he’s about to fall in it. “What… <em> oh </em>.” Alex grins, in a definitely disproportionate amount of excitement for what he found. He double-checks that it’s not just an empty box and stores the information away for later.</p>
<p>Alex walks back out to the main area. “I know I said I’d cook, but any chance you’d be up for frozen pizza?… What are you doing?”</p>
<p>Henry is sitting on his knees, backwards on one of the chairs, stretched out over the back, trying to reach something behind it. “One moment…” he says, voice straining as he struggles to… do whatever it is he’s doing.</p>
<p>“That’s dignified,” Alex snorts. How did his perfect royal genes spare him from a flat ass too? “You know, pants this tight can’t be useful in the apocalypse.”</p>
<p>“Are you looking at my arse?”</p>
<p>“No, I’m looking at your<em> ass </em> and only because you’re pointing it at me.”</p>
<p>“You could turn away.” Alex is about to point out how he couldn’t pay him <em>enough </em>to look away from this artful expression of British royal decorum when Henry jolts forwards with a grunt then retracts back to a normal seating position. In his hands is what looks like a paperback that he’s dusting off.</p>
<p>“Where did you get <em> that</em>?”</p>
<p>“It was stuck under that chair.”</p>
<p>“How the fuck did you sniff it out, you bloodhound?” Henry laughs, flipping through it. “Who even brought a book to a bar?”</p>
<p>“A person who wanted to be left alone,” Henry shrugs. “Or maybe they just wanted it with them for comfort.” He sighs, absently turning a few pages, and Alex can’t help but notice the sad furrow of his brows, the way his lips are pinched on the side. He once thought it a sign of indifference, but it looks different up close. Or maybe he’s just more honest with him now and lets the rest of his expression say what his lips alone cannot.</p>
<p>Alex hops on the table closest to him. “How come I didn’t see you pack one? Didn’t have any?”</p>
<p>Henry huffs, bitter and exhausted. “I thought it was silly. It’s the middle of the apocalypse, what am I going to do with it?” He closes the book and tosses it with noticeable care on the table next to where Alex is sitting. “It doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>The telltale scent of a used book drifts up his nose as he picks it up. Alex shifts his gaze from the book to Henry and back, then one more time. He hands it back to him, but not before he taps him once on the top of the head with it. “Don’t be stupid. Keep this one. Just to have it with you, right?”</p>
<p>It’s impossible not to return the smile Henry gives him. Where Alex’s is bright with satisfaction, Henry’s is gentle and uncertain but it breaks that offending pinch of his mouth for something much kinder to himself, so Alex takes it.</p>
<p>“Any thoughts on pizza?”</p>
<p>“Sounds good.”</p>
<p>“Great!” Alex hops down and heads for the kitchen. He gives him one last grin behind his shoulder. “And I have a surprise for you. You’ll see!”</p>
<p>Half an hour and two pizzas later, they’re spread over a table each, because chairs are for the common folk obviously, with a cluster of large fairy lights they found behind the bar scattered between them as their only source of light. He still hasn’t figured out why very little light feels safer than turning all the lights on, but it works for them and they’re sticking with it. The food itself, though so bland it hurts, is still pizza, and Alex savors every damn bite of it.</p>
<p>“So what was the surprise?” Henry asks, popping the last piece of crust into his mouth.</p>
<p>“Oh, right! Hang on.” Alex jumps up and runs to the kitchen to dive into the freezer again. He takes two cones out of the cardboard box and heads back to Henry. “Here. Drumstick.”</p>
<p>Henry frowns at the blue packaging. “I think not.”</p>
<p>“No,” Alex rolls his eyes, passing it over to him. “It’s like those things you had in Kensington. The ones you raided your own kitchen for? What did you call them—Cornettos? Try.” He watches as Henry pries the packaging out. His eyes light up like a child at the sight of it, even though his mouth wavers between a smile and a scowl, stuck in that uncertain joy of finding a piece of normal in a world broken beyond recognition. Alex follows his lead. “How about this time I actually join you?”</p>
<p>“That would be lovely.” The smile wins the battle and they bump their cones together like clinking glasses. “Thank y—are you <em>biting </em>it?”</p>
<p>“I got you ice-cream, lay the fuck off.”</p>
<p>Their laughter is cut short. The atmosphere grows heavier as it empties, tension filling all the gaps in between. As if the world decided to withdraw every sound of life from the air around them, it sucks the sound dry, stolen with the last of their breath. Fear clogs their throats, their lungs.</p>
<p>He’ll never get used to this. Or what happens next.</p>
<p>Alex yelps when something bangs against the front door, rattling the wall of makeshift wooden panels and furniture they’ve built in front of it. He slips down to the floor, squeezing himself halfway under the table instead of on it. Henry follows him. His hands reach out but hesitate inches away from Alex, who has no such qualms and grabs a handful of his shirt, pulling him against his side.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Alex whispers, curling his fingers tighter against the fabric. Henry’s breaths are too fast again and he can feel him shake him in his grasp. Alex pulls him closer. “We did a good job, it’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>It’s quieter this time and he has no idea if that makes him feel better or worse. It could be the stone around the building or it could be that the night has only just begun. There’s another bang from the back door. Henry flinches into himself. They don’t touch the windows, not yet.</p>
<p>Knocks come from the front door. Slow, drawn-out… expecting. The pause between each one is longer than the last but they never stop. Right when he thinks it might be over there’s another one, echoing wrongly against the door’s glass window. Alex is too frozen to move, too scared to react. He just holds on to Henry and breathes, saving his wits for an emergency and refusing to acknowledge anything that’s happening around him. Everything but Henry by his side. Henry, who’s curled in so far on himself his head is between his legs, obscuring everything from sight. Every cursed knock looks like it’s carving pieces out of him, big irreplaceable parts that Alex doesn’t know how to give back to him. He doesn’t want to know what memories the sounds bring forth, but he wishes he could find a way to get them away from him so they don’t hurt anymore, not in here with Alex by his side.</p>
<p>“H-hey… Henry? Look at me,” Alex whispers, shifting ever so little in his position to grab a better hold and guide him to look up. “Look at me.”</p>
<p>Henry dares to meet his gaze. His skin is deathly white and glistening with sweat, his eyes shot wide open. He parts his mouth to say something, but another sound beats him to the punch.</p>
<p>This one doesn’t plead. It’s not a pained cry for help it has memorized to mock them.</p>
<p>No, this one just <em>screams</em>.</p>
<p>A high-pitched, shrill sound of utter terror that makes Alex’s ears ring. And it cuts short like it got interrupted. Starts again just as loud. Then stops. Like that’s how it learned to make the sound.</p>
<p>Henry moans and hangs his head. He grasps at Alex’s shirt like a lifeline and Alex takes hold of his shoulders, keeping him close. “<em>Alex… </em> ” he groans as if the sheer horror is causing him physical pain. “<em>Alex, </em>” he calls again when the screams stop for the knocking to return, pained yet pleading like a prayer.</p>
<p>He pushes against the fear that has rendered every limb frozen stiff and lifts himself to balance on his knees. He places his hands on Henry’s face and lifts him to look at him. “It’s—”</p>
<p>“<em>A-ahlex </em>.”</p>
<p>What little color he had left washes from Henry’s face, wiped clean by the same blood-chilling terror that springs tears to his eyes. Half an hour ago those eyes had stared at him like a child on fucking Christmas, and now the blue looks cracked and fragile and ready to shatter. Henry looks broken. Yet his mouth is clamped shut.</p>
<p>“A<em> Ah </em> Lex.” The sound pierces his ears. It sends shock-waves from his rapid heart towards his limbs, sharp jolts of panic like he could find somewhere to run. “<b><em>Alex</em></b>.”</p>
<p>Alex shakes his head, his expression twisting in grief and disgust alike, pursed lips and scrunched up eyes. No. No. This can’t be happening. No.</p>
<p>Henry’s hands are covering his mouth, muffling whatever sound he’s trying so hard not to let slip. He’s shaking violently now, full-body tremors that travel all the way up to Alex from where they’re still holding on to each other. He’s sinking lower and lower towards the floor; Alex grabs hold of his shoulders before he can shut himself off from him.</p>
<p>“Stop, stop, it’s okay. Listen to me. <em>Look at me, Henry, </em>he demands with a lot more confidence than he feels and he wants to laugh at how he managed to keep the tremble out of his voice, but hysterical laughter is probably not going to do wonders for Henry’s psyche right now. To his surprise, Henry listens to him and lifts his eyes to look. Fuck, Alex wishes he hasn’t asked.  His gaze is raw and stricken and wounded, and Alex might be as terrified of it as he is of the actual fucking monsters outside.</p>
<p>
  <b>“</b>
  <b>
    <em>Alex</em>
  </b>
  <b>.”</b>
</p>
<p>They both flinch at the sound.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know…” Henry rambles too fast. Alex can’t tell if the speed is because of the stress but he gets an idea.</p>
<p>“It’s not your fault. Hey, where did you dump that book from before?”</p>
<p><em> “What</em>?”</p>
<p>“The book. Go get it. Go now.” He pushes him to get up. Nervous energy piles up inside him as Henry complies, and he starts tapping his foot on the ground, wringing his hands together while he waits.</p>
<p>Henry is back next to him in seconds, both of them curled together under a couple of adjoining tables. The fairy lights are almost mocking them now, too sweet and peaceful for the horror that’s raging outside. Like a bucketful of scattered stars. Alex freezes as he realizes.</p>
<p>“Alex? What did you—Are you okay?” Henry whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder. “<em>Hey</em>.”</p>
<p>Alex bites down hard on his lower lip, swallowing back the sob that itches on the back on his throat. He shakes his head against the tears and saves the grief for when he’ll have the luxury of time to process it. But <em>fuck</em>. He’ll never get to see the stars again, will he? He can’t be out at night. Ever.</p>
<p>“<em>Alex,</em>” Henry calls again, and Alex closes his eyes at the sound of his name from his lips instead, the precious humanity embedded in his words, the stupid fucking accent Alex used to find so annoying. He wants Henry’s voice to wash out that vile sound of his name, soothe it before it etches itself in his mind like a scar.</p>
<p>“Read for me. Please?” Alex asks, peering one eye open. “There’s no way they can copy something as fast as a sentence. Please read.”</p>
<p>Henry looks startled. “W-Why?”</p>
<p>“Because you can focus on reading and I’ll focus on your voice and at some point it’ll <em> pass.</em>” His voice cracks on the last word and no matter how hard he blinks he can’t stop a few tears from escaping. He wipes them away. “Could you?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Yes, of course, I—” He grabs the edge of the lights and brings them closer to him to stay on his lap as he opens the book. They’re sitting side by side now, shoulders touching and Alex tests Henry’s patience by pressing himself closer to him. He closes his eyes to hear only Henry’s voice. And Henry reads, about high school drama and crushes and friends and…</p>
<p>“Your Highness, what the fuck are we reading?”</p>
<p>Henry chuckles, the sound pitched with stress. “I have no bloody clue. The cover was torn off.”</p>
<p>“Next time we’re in a town, I’ll let you loot a bookstore, I promise.”</p>
<p>Henry pushes himself closer to him. “Much appreciated.”</p>
<p>And he continues to read, covering the sounds outside with nonsense that Alex is certain must have mattered once. And he keeps going even as the sounds fade, until Alex is asleep against his shoulder.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>.... phew. Thanks so much for reading! I'll try to get the next chapter up soon!</p>
<p>I'm trying to update my multichaps in turn, so 'those markings on your skin' will be updated next! It's a prompt collection but half of these do make a single narrative while standalones and they're very angsty and emotional, so if that sounds like your thing, take a look! </p>
<p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you thought! As always find me @ saltfics on tumblr. Till next time~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. i'm still running from the fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alex wakes up alone. Again. He’s not sure why Henry thought he had the right to leave him every sunrise, but Alex is not happy about it. He’s going to tell him it’s illegal in the US. Looking around the room, it’s impossible not to spot the large block letters on what used to be a specials’ menu, and he wonders both how Henry sniffed out a piece of chalk for it in this place and how the hell Alex didn’t stir when he was scraping it against the board. </span>
  <em>
    <span>NOT DEAD. OUTSIDE,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it says in handwriting so neat Alex rolls his eyes at it, and there’s even a big arrow drawn underneath, complete with a small swirl, that points at a covered plate on the bar below it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex has </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> many questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He packs their stuff before he heads outside—if Henry is going to get up early and cook it’s the least he can do—and even slips that horrendous novel in Henry’s backpack, though he’s serious about letting him loot a bookstore at some point. There’s no harm in finding a little joy, especially one as accessible as that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a cozy gazebo out in the garden, the tan wood slightly dulled by dirt and dust but spared of any more disturbing stains. That’s not where Henry chose to spend his morning. Alex lets out a soft laugh, his lips curling upwards ever so little as he joins him at the playground behind it and takes a seat on the swing next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry has his head resting against the metal chain, soft blond hair tousled about his face. He shifts slightly to look at Alex when he sits down, and smiles, a meek yet genuine thing that softens his features despite the cool light of the early morning drawing odd shadows on his face. And Alex hopes it’s the lighting that washes him so pale, but his gaze catches on the bruises under his eyes, the droopy way he holds them open. Does he ever sleep? At all?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Henry greets, then clears his throat when he finds his voice too hoarse. “Sleep okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex bites back the </span>
  <em>
    <span>did you</span>
  </em>
  <span>? that springs to his mind and nods instead. He digs into the plate of hash browns Henry left for him. He saw the package in the freezer yesterday, so there’s as much credit for his cooking earned there as for Alex’s pizza skills from the night before, but he thanks him for the meal anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry’s smile widens a hint, before the exhaustion drags it back down to a frustrating neutrality. Alex swallows down his bite hard. Is he supposed to talk to him about it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chickens out at the last moment. “So… swings?”  Damn it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry huffs. “I don’t know. It felt nicer than sitting at a table by myself. Do you not…I mean…” He struggles with his words, a frown forming on his face, before he shakes his head. “Never mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex bumps their shoulders together. “Tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry turns to look at him, all scrunched up and uncertain. Alex wants to smooth those lines from his face but he doesn’t know how.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Henry…” he calls, not sure where to go from here. “What is it?” he tries, hoping Henry will trust him with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he doesn’t. He straightens up in his seat like on command, schools the pain in his expression back to that infuriating wall Alex thought was disinterest. It wasn’t. He’s protecting himself, he realizes now. And he’s hurting himself all the same. But for fuck's sake, they’re a big part of each other’s lives now, aren’t they? The biggest. They spend each night holding each other close to keep their sanity intact because they can’t… because they can’t afford to lose this unlikely friendship, can’t stand the thought of losing each other. And Alex knows, as much as he loathes to admit it, that Henry is not his emotional support human or any kind of bullshit he’s been telling himself, keeping him there as a memento of a time where things were almost normal just to remind himself of where he’s trying to go. No, Henry is his friend and he holds him within reach so he doesn’t fucking lose him. So Alex can be as much of a comfort to him as vice versa. And if something bad happened to him now… Alex doesn’t know how he would react to that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he hates the fact that Henry doesn’t fucking sleep and that he’s hurting but refuses to speak to him because what the hell is the point of holding back with each other? For all they know at this moment in time, they’re the only ones they have and… </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex tugs at Henry’s swing to pull him closer, then goes to wrap his arms around him… only for the swing to fall back further from him when he lets go. Alex brings a palm to his face and it manages to hide his smile when he hears Henry laugh in confusion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You had to be annoying. You had to sit here, didn’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He won’t be defeated this easily. He drags himself closer to Henry, planting his feet on the ground so he won’t swing back. By the time this all goes down he feels awkward bringing his arms around him, but he powers through, ignoring the heat that rises up his neck as he does so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry goes rigid under his touch. “What are you doing?” he asks, but he returns the gesture like an instinct, placing a gentle hand on Alex’s back to pull him closer against him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The metal of the swing is still between them and Alex’s position keeps trying to pull him away, but he holds tighter, determined to do what he planned. “I know I fucking obliterated whatever moment we were having, but… you should, you know, talk to me? At this point the only thing we’re sure of is each other. Truth is…” Alex sighs, shifting to hide his face on Henry’s shoulder. “I don’t actually know if my family… a-and I know it’s harder for you, because you can’t—” He feels Henry’s hands hold tighter and he lets the thought drop. “Just talk to me. We’re here for each other, right? You’re here for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” comes the immediate reply and Alex squeezes once before he pulls back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods. “Good. So… talk to me, okay? It doesn’t have to be now but we’re dealing with a lot of shit. We might as well deal with them together. Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry’s eyes are bright with something intense, a storm swirling in the bright blue, but he nods, mouth clamped shut like he doesn’t trust himself to speak. Which is the opposite point from the one Alex was trying to make, though he can hope it just means he can’t tell him </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. At some point Henry is going to get his head out of his ass and talk to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should get going.” Preferably with something that doesn’t reek of avoidance tactics.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They pack up quickly and load up the car. Alex takes the driver’s seat again and notes that they should refill the tank soon. They have extra fuel on the back, stolen from abandoned vehicles back in New York before they left, but if he finds a still functioning gas station on his way, he should try that first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry melts into the seat as soon as he settles down, slipping lower against it and resting his head against the car door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex eyes him without saying a word. He turns on the ignition and pulls out into the main road again, careful to keep even the car’s motions gentle. And as he expected, the soft rumble of the car, smooth sailing across an empty road, lulls Henry into sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s kind of boring, he admits, driving in the quiet. The road is empty, save for the odd abandoned obstacle he tries not to dwell on, and they have no music as they still haven’t managed to find a single AUX cord. So he drives in silence, listening only to Henry’s steady breathing next to him. He squirms sometimes and even that movement is dragged down by a heavy blanket of exhaustion that seems to cover every part of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex starts humming after a while, so he doesn’t immediately notice when Henry’s breath starts to catch. It’s when he hisses like he’s in pain that Alex turns to look, alarmed, to find him still asleep, trapped in some sort of nightmare. Henry squirms harder in his seat, breathing deepening into an erratic pattern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex calls his name, too quiet to properly wake him. He waits another moment to see if he can settle down by himself. Then Henry whimpers in his sleep and that thoughts goes </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> out the window. “Henry, wake up. Come on, your Highness, beauty sleep over.” He tries to nudge him awake, but Henry doesn’t react to the touch. “Fuck’s sake, man, you must really be tired… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Henry</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shoves in earnest now and Henry jumps, limbs flailing so Alex has to dodge a wayward hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Easy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re okay. It’s just me in here,” he says, his gaze shifting between him and the road. “Not gonna lie, you’re making me regret letting you sleep,” he tries to joke but it falls flat between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry is bent over in half, a hand gripping the front of his shirt as he takes deep, panting breaths. His eyes are still shot wide and frantic, yet they don’t move, glued to his feet, glazed over with the remnants of whatever scared him so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Henry? Hey. Look at me?” Alex swallows down his sigh at the lack of response and carefully reaches out a hand to take Henry’s in his own, detaching it from where it’s crushing the fabric of his pants. Henry startles at the contact yet doesn’t pull away, just stares at Alex with big, confused eyes that slowly start to focus. Alex squeezes once for good measure and doesn’t let go until Henry clears his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I apologize.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For what?” He doesn’t get a response. “Don’t sweat it, honestly. I’d be surprised if you could sleep well under these conditions, to be honest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry falls back on the seat, looking more tired than he did before his unfortunate attempt at rest. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> sleep,” he points out. Alex can’t quite grasp the tone of his words but it’s not bitter. It’s almost… relieved?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, you know what? I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I had the worst time sleeping back at the apartment. I guess that second human presence is really doing wonders for me.” He throws a grin his way, and he’s pleased to find Henry trying to return the smile, feeble though it may be. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>So</span>
  </em>
  <span>… you need to start trusting me too.” It’s only after he says it that he realizes how strongly he implied he trusts Henry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. He said what he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I trust you with my life, Alex.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s glad he’s holding on to the wheel for that one so Henry doesn’t see how tense his grip gets. He’s glad he’s staring at the road so he doesn’t have to see what sort of face he’s wearing when he says that. It’s not like the feeling isn’t mutual. But the way Henry says it, is more confident than it has any right to be after being so upset, certain and heavy and so, so steady like it’s the one truth Henry can rely on. If he’s being honest, Alex doesn’t know what he’s doing. The plan this far has been to rough it out until he gets to his family. He wants his mom, his dad. He wants June. He considers himself a pretty competent person (even though Zahra might disagree). But he’s not prepared for this. And Henry… he doesn’t have anyone else. There’s no family waiting for him when they arrive, there’s no comfort or safe space he can seek out, there’s only… there’s only Alex. And that’s a lot to have on your shoulders. That’s a lot to want to protect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And fuck it all, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry shifts in his seat, cheeks gaining a faint pink tinge as the silence stretches on. It’s better than the sickly pallor he was sporting, but Alex should probably change the subject. Put him out of his misery.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to tell me what you saw?” Into a different kind of misery, apparently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry turns to look out of the window and Alex doubts it’s the great view of the highway that does it for him. “It’s nothing.” He thinks he might leave it at that, despite all earlier talks about trust, but to his surprise, he decides to continue. “I-I told you… I haven’t really slept since…” His voice is subdued and it peters into nothing before he can say the name. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Since Shaan left</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you not feel safe?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex wonders how he can possibly say he’ll make sure he’s safe without lying and also without feeling like a storybook knight courting the unfortunate princess. The fact that Henry is actual fucking royalty doesn’t help.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not… that’s not it.” His eyes drift to his lap, where he’s fiddling with his shirt. “I… I know you think he’s—I-I can’t even consider you being right, and I… most of all I hate not knowing, Alex. It’s driving me mad. He was—he was right there! In front of me! And I let him go—for-for what? So we can find a way back? We’ll never find a way home! And I lost—” A choked sob escapes his throat and Henry clamps a hand in front of his mouth, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “He was my family, too,” he whispers when he can speak again. “And I… I shouldn’t have let him go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex feels his heart drop to his stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hates lying to him and he hates not knowing </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s lying to him even more. “He may still find us,” he forces out, and he’s sure his stomach is going to digest his heart, piece by piece to make him pay for this. “We left the note. He can find us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry huffs, wiping the tears that found their way to his eyes uninvited. “You don’t truly believe that.” It’s not a question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I want to.” It’s the most honest thing he can say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry, if anything, seems to appreciate that. He doesn’t quite smile at him, it’s more of a grimace, but he settles a bit, wiping the last of his tears, and the hair back from his face—it’s gotten a bit too long for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex swallows hard against the lump in his throat. He can’t allow himself to think about what he’ll do if he finds himself in Henry’s position. If he gets to Texas and his family is not there, and there’s no indication of where they could be, what is he meant to do then?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like a saving grace from his own overeager mind and his (rightfully) miserable companion who seems to like nothing more than to fire it up, a gas station catches his attention in the distance. It looks fairly untouched, but the boarded up windows worry him. Simeone fought there once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex pulls over anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to refill the tank,” he explains when Henry shoots him a look. “I’m going to take a peek inside. Do you want me to see if they have anything in particular?” When he declines, Alex adds, “Maybe I can find one of those airplane pillows for you.” He winks and ducks out of the car before he can hear his protests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex connects the pump to the car first, one hundred and thirty percent certain Prince Charming over there won’t know how to do it, and, once he makes sure Henry has switched to the driver’s seat just in case, he heads to the store on the back. He’s halfway through the door by the time he realizes he forgot the gun. Stupid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the windows are blocked but the door is open and unlocked. Light slips inside from the entrance Alex uses, and from a television that’s been left on and muted, drawing his attention to it immediately. It’s playing the Little Mermaid of all things. Alex laughs. He wonders if Henry likes that movie. (He wonders if he can get him to sing Part Of Your World if he tries really hard. He’s a prince too. Maybe he relates).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I help you, kid?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex jumps at the sudden voice, swearing up a storm. He turns to find a lady behind the counter, watching him with a disapproving scowl, though it might be because of his creative use of language. She has to be in her mid-fifties, with deep laughter lines on her face that clash with the defeated expression she’s wearing now. Grey roots are showing above charcoal black hair that’s pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize… you were… uh, open?” Alex offers, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wants to warn Henry, but even though she doesn’t appear dangerous, he doesn’t want to alert her to his presence. This was exactly why he had Henry wait in the driver’s seat in the first place. To make a quick getaway. Or to drive away if he needs to. Not that he told Henry that. Now he wishes he had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You thought you were going to steal,” she says with a smirk, her big brown eyes watching him carefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! No… well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>kinda</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but I didn’t know anyone would miss them. I’ll-I’ll go get some money? From the car.” Or he’ll get in the car and drive the hell away from there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She chuckles. “Don’t worry about it, son. What use would I have for money?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex looks outside. He catches Henry’s gaze but he doesn’t know how to tell him something is up without making it obvious that he’s talking to someone. Henry must sense something is wrong, because he straightens in his spot, one hand reaching out to the car door. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, no, please don’t get out. Please stay put.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex moves further inside, hoping it will be enough to convince him he’s all right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why are you here?” he asks her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gets up and Alex freezes until it’s clear she doesn’t hold anything that could be used as a weapon in her hands. Heading over to the coffeemaker in the back, she nods towards it and if Alex wasn’t still so alarmed over the situation, he might have hugged her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To talk to the survivors. To try and make sure people take only what they need,” she says as she prepares them both a cup. “You’d be surprised at how many people are striving to go somewhere like you are. You’d be less surprised to know how many of them are desperate for some contact. Myself included.” She turns towards him again and only then does he notice how much trust that must have taken, turning her back on a stranger in the middle of disaster. Alex gives her a soft smile. She offers him a cup. “One for your friend too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex’s expression breaks and falls, worry rooting at his heart and fed by panic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean no harm,” she reassures. “We’ve been through some hard times, kid. Kindness goes a long way. We could use some good karma. And maybe if I help you, you’ll be more inclined to do me a favor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Alex asks, reaching out for the cup. It smells like cheap gas station coffee, as it should, and it’s ridiculous how much he’s missed this little stupid piece of normalcy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Before communications went down my niece told me she’s on her way here. Lisa Thomson—she has a small scar on her hairline from falling off her bike as a kid. If you find her on the road, please pass on the kindness. And let her know where I am, could you?” Her smile is genuine this time when Alex nods, and it lights up her features, presenting him with those laughter lines in all their beauty. “Thank you. So? Cup for your friend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got any tea?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five minutes later he makes his way back to the car, two steaming cups in hand, and nothing else. The woman—Eva, she introduced herself right before he left, after admitting she marathoned the crap out of her old Disney collection for pure, sweet escapism—said to take only what needed, and aside from the gas, he couldn’t justify taking anything else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry pulls himself halfway out of the car as he approaches. He looks uncertain and Alex frowns at how tight his lips are. “Do you, err, want me to drive?” he offers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not if you look like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> when you suggest it,” Alex scoffs. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me His Royal Highness doesn’t have a driver’s license.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I do. In Britain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes longer than he’s proud of for what he means to click in his mind. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> no. Scoot </span>
  <em>
    <span>away</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the driver’s seat,” he demands as if he’s threatening him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You cannot keep driving yourself for so many hours. Let me try. The road is mostly empty. How hard can it be?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Move, Henry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry rolls his eyes but complies. Alex tells him what happened inside, ignoring how frustrated Henry looks for not alerting him that Alex may have been in danger. He chugs the last of his coffee as he turns on the ignition, relishing the bitter burn on the back of his tongue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry eyes his own drink, before shrugging and taking a sip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Alex snorts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… I don’t know. This strange lady hands you a drink. It might be poisoned.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks, Once. Twice. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>such </span>
  </em>
  <span>an ass,” Alex groans, the sweet feeling from meeting another human being lying in ashes in the pit of his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All I’m saying—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re drinking it too!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, since </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>can’t drive, you’re going to crash us anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex kind of wants to whack him. He also wants to pointedly take a sip right in front of his stupid face but he already finished his drink. “So very Romeo and Juliet of us. Double poisoning.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry lets out a choked laugh, red at the ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“People will think we were star-crossed lovers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you truly believe people will still care in the middle of all this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex scowls at the odd tone, but when he turns to look back at Henry, he can’t catch his gaze. He’s turned away from him, studying the view out of the window like it holds an answer Alex doesn’t have to give. “I mean, maybe?” Alex tries to joke. “It’s me.” It doesn’t work. If anything Henry’s expression fades further. “You good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever he’s thinking about, he pushes it away with a sigh. “I still think you should let me drive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get your British ass away from the left side of the car, Henry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he wonders what bothered him so. Maybe he’ll ask him later. He always seemed more prone to sharing at night anyway.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>... yeah, okay, I know this was not THE best chapter. And I apologize. (Maybe I'll come tweak it a bit at some point). AnyhOO, things will start picking up soon. Maybe one of these days Alex will get his head out of his ass. Maybe not.</p>
<p>Honestly, it's... 6 am here and I still have slept so good morning y'all, please leave a review before you go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. keep me safe inside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The coffee does not kill them, which is a significant victory on the small scale of things. Henry pulls out a pen at some point and starts doodling on his cup as if he’s the one who’s tired after hours upon hours of driving. Of course, when Alex points that out to him, he reminds him that apparently he’s not <em>allowed </em>to drive, to which Alex promptly announces that he’d take fighting one of the monsters to his death over crashing because of Britain’s backward tendencies. </p>
<p>“There are seventy-six places that drive on the left side of the road. Do you know how many countries—”</p>
<p>“Why the <em> fuck </em> do you know that?”</p>
<p>“—use the imperial system instead of the metric? Three.”</p>
<p>“Okay, but the Imperial system came from the British<em> Empire</em>, so.”</p>
<p>“And <em> that </em> is the part you decided to keep?”</p>
<p>It’s not even the most absurd conversation they’ve had so far.</p>
<p>Alex keeps drifting back to the woman at the gas station too. He thinks about her living alone, waiting for a person who may or may not show up and his mind is pulled to a dozen different directions. He wonders about his mom, about his family—are they all together? Are they wondering if Alex will show up at all, the way Eva is holding on hope for her niece? What about Zahra or Cash and Amy? Are they all together with them or are they, too, trying to reach people important to them, torn away by their jobs before they realized how important it would be to stay close? </p>
<p>He doesn’t bother contemplating whether they’re alive or not. Like a brightly colored motivational poster, the assumption that they are has been plastered in his mind as large as a fucking tapestry to hide all the horrors that lurk behind it. It’s big and glaring and obnoxious, loud enough so when he’s wondering what on this forsaken earth he’s meant to do next, it will be the only thing in his mind to see.  He has no choice. Because if he tears it down, if he removes the goal from his mind then… he’s not sure what would be left for him to fight for.</p>
<p>He thinks of Henry too. Having seen the hunger in Eva’s eyes as she spoke to him, the way her hands twitched at the contact when she handed him the cups, he’s grateful he’s not alone anymore. He can only hope Henry feels the same even a little.</p>
<p>Alex sneaks a glance at him, finds him still doodling on his coffee cup. How there’s still any space left is beyond him. “What are you writing, anyway?”</p>
<p>“Quotes. Lines. Geometric patterns,” he shrugs, not looking up as he colors something in with the blue ballpoint he’s holding. “It’s calming.”</p>
<p>“Your own lines?”</p>
<p>Henry scoffs. “Yes, Alex, I’d leave my writing on the coffee cup where you could find it.”</p>
<p>Alex grins and turns to look at him for a dangerous amount of time, just so he can see the realization spread across Henry’s face. “So you <em>do </em>write. And they are somewhere here, hidden?”</p>
<p>He freezes mid-stroke, turning a muted red from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears, his eyes wide. He looks at the pen he’s holding, still half-raised in front of him, then back to Alex. “I’m going to stab you with this pen.”</p>
<p>“It’s a plastic ballpoint, <em> please.” </em></p>
<p>“Don’t test me.”</p>
<p>He laughs and Henry seems to relax at the sound for some reason, though he discards the cup on the holder, thoroughly discouraged from continuing.</p>
<p>Alex almost feels bad. “I’m just saying they would have made a better read than what we were reading last night, you know?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know about that.”</p>
<p>“You <em> gotta </em> have more confidence than that.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps, but if I admit it’s better, you might force me to read it to you tonight instead and, to be frank, I’d much rather sit through another round of whatever the hell that was.”</p>
<p>“Oh, we’re going to do that anyway, sweetheart.”</p>
<p>Henry shifts in his seat, suddenly very interested in the view from the windows.</p>
<p>“Okay, can you <em>at least </em>read me one of the quotes? I’m curious now.”</p>
<p>Henry sighs through his nose, his mouth pinched, but he picks up the cup anyway. “ ‘<em>This is the way the world ends,'" </em>he reads, and if Alex expected a monotone voice based on his annoyance, he’s surprised to hear the tenderness to it, like he’s holding the words on the edges of his lips and he’s careful to free them as painlessly as possible. “ ‘<em>Not with a bang, but with a whimper.’” </em> </p>
<p>Alex frowns. “I know that one.” The line unravels in his mind, unable to settle in peace when the words suddenly ring different than when he first heard them. “Eliot, right?”</p>
<p>“That’s right,” Henry nods, then switches back to his narrating voice. “'<em>They say the captain goes down with the ship, so when the world ends, will God go down with it?'”</em></p>
<p>Alex cringes, the heaviness of the quote bringing a bad taste to his mouth. Henry is looking at him, his face unreadable. “Sheesh. No idea. Which angst-ridden poet is that from?”</p>
<p>“Fall Out Boy.”</p>
<p>A blink. Two. “Oh, fuck <em> off</em>! <em> ” </em> he yells as Henry erupts in laughter. “Did you honestlywrite that down?”</p>
<p>“I improvised.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you, man.” He turns his attention back to the road, ignoring the way Henry is <em>still laughing</em>. “Are all your quotes in the same jolly theme?”</p>
<p>“Well, we <em> are </em> in the middle of the apocalypse, I’m not sure what you expect me to be thinking about.”</p>
<p>“The wonderful time you’re having on a road trip with your best friend?” he offers and doesn’t manage to get to the end of the sentence without laughing, too. Henry rolls his eyes. “I don’t know. A girl you left back in England? You know, helpless pining? It’s very on-brand with the whole ‘prince’ thing.”</p>
<p>The amusement drains from his expression so fast Alex feels haunted by the sudden absence. Henry turns stiff as a board, and when he turns away to look towards the window again, Alex knows he’s not going to look at him again. What he doesn’t know is <em>why. </em></p>
<p><em> “ </em>Henry?”</p>
<p>“We need to find a place to stop.”</p>
<p>“O…kay. Are you all right?” </p>
<p>Henry dismisses his worry and Alex falls silent, unsure of what warranted that reaction. They drive like this for a while, until Alex spots an exit from the road and a building behind it. It’s some sort of furniture store, but it seems easy to board up from the outside and large enough for Henry to have his space if he needs to avoid him that desperately. </p>
<p>He dismisses that thought as soon as he parks the car, though Henry is still giving him the cold shoulder. They shouldn’t be like this. Not during the night. So when Henry reaches for the handle, Alex blurts out the only thing he can remember that might bring them back to a brighter point.</p>
<p>“I- ‘<em> I’ve heard the languages of apocalypse, and now I shall embrace the silence, </em>’” he quotes, trying not to betray how embarrassed he is. “Neil Gaiman,” he adds when Henry looks at him at last, perplexed. “Look, you wanna be gloomy about this? Go the fuck ahead. But don’t shut me out.”</p>
<p>He exits the car before he can see Henry’s reaction, but when he comes back from the routine check of the building, Henry’s lips are curled ever so little at the corners, and they don’t let up the entire time they get settled inside.</p>
<p>The disaster has left the store untouched on the inside with various fake rooms still set up on display, wooden kitchen cabinets and shiny white counters, color palette samples hung on the walls, and tile racks spread between the settings.</p>
<p>He catches Henry standing in the middle of the display, looking around with a deep frown lining his face.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>“None of these appliances are supposed to be working, right?”</p>
<p>“Well, no, wh…” Alex lets his eyes fall closed and he rubs a hand along with face in defeat once he realizes what Henry is getting at. “No food.”</p>
<p>He jolts when Henry’s own hand lands on his shoulder. “We do have food. It’s just…”</p>
<p>“We can’t actually cook anything.”</p>
<p>He offers him a sympathetic smile. Alex suddenly feels very stupid for complaining. “Considering the situation, it could be worse.”</p>
<p>“You’re right. It could be your cooking.”</p>
<p>Henry gives him a good shove, but he’s clearly trying not to laugh. “Oi, I’m trying to comfort you here.”</p>
<p>“Okay, idea,” Alex says instead. “What if we lit a small fire?”</p>
<p>“We’d die.”</p>
<p>“I said a small one!”</p>
<p>“We’re in a <em> closed </em> room.” Oh, right. Carbon monoxide. Sure.</p>
<p>He looks around the place again, searching for something that would work. There’s a functioning bathroom in the back (thank <em> fuck </em>) but no kitchen except for a coffee maker for which Alex is disproportionately grateful. That’s when he notices that the fireplace may not be as decorative as he first thought it was. </p>
<p>Alex gets down on all fours and sticks his head inside the opening. “Henry?” Henry responds directly behind him and he bumps his head on the frame hard enough to hurt. “<em> Fuck </em>.”</p>
<p>“What… what are you doing?” His voice sounds funny and if that bastard is trying not to laugh, he’s going to kick his ass. </p>
<p>“I think this one is actually connected. Hand me the flashlight.” Alex hears his footsteps come and go before something metal is placed in his outstretched hand. A minute later, he pushes himself out and sits cross-legged on the floor, his chin resting on his hand. “What do we do?”</p>
<p>Henry lowers himself down next to it. “Can’t we block it?” He leans towards the opening too, and Alex swears he’s paler than before.</p>
<p>Rough, heavy stone that surrounds the fireplace and the shape is too different from what they’re used to barring. “Maybe. But I don’t know how well.”</p>
<p>Henry swallows, nodding twice, slowly. “Then we do what you said.” He sticks his chin out, defiant and determined. “We light a fire.”</p>
<p>“And if it doesn’t work?”</p>
<p>“Honestly…” He doesn’t look at Alex. He’s not looking at anything at all. “I don’t think they’d fit, anyway.”</p>
<p>He remembers then that Henry has seen what these monsters look like twice before. For once he’s out of words to give him. </p>
<p>They have matches and paper and a variety of furniture they can burn, leftovers from the things they broke to bar the windows. It doesn’t take long to get the fire going. Alex lets out a small whoop when he notices the smoke is, in fact, drifting outside as it should. Somehow even after seeing the opening himself, he still doubted that it would work.</p>
<p>He turns towards Henry, grinning, only for the excitement to falter when he sees the state of him. </p>
<p>Henry is standing still, shoulders curled in and a face slack, lost for expression. His eyes are wide and unseeing, and the blue reflects the light of the fire in a clash of colors, a burning sky for the end of the world. </p>
<p>“Henry?” Alex calls, hesitating to reach out and touch him. “Henry? Hey.” The tiniest crease etches itself between his brows, but he doesn’t otherwise acknowledge him. “Dude, you’re scaring me. <em> Henry</em>,” he tries one more time, placing his hand on his shoulder.</p>
<p>Henry gasps like he’s drowning and slaps Alex’s touch away. He backs two steps from him, one hand flying up to cover the scar on his forehead. </p>
<p>Alex watches as his gaze refocuses then breaks with realization. </p>
<p>“I-I apologize, I—”</p>
<p>“Hey, don’t worry about me. Are you okay?” Henry flinches and Alex lowers his hands, unaware of the defensive stance he had taken. “What happened there?”</p>
<p>But the flinch might not have been for him. Henry’s face scrunches up and he presses harder down on the raised skin as if it hurts him. In a brief moment of complete absurdness, Alex thinks this is all very Harry Potter of him.</p>
<p> “I’m okay,” Henry claims, like a total fucking liar, and tries to even his expression. “Would you—I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.”</p>
<p>“There’s a couch in the fake living room. Should be more comfortable than sleeping bags.” He tries to protest, so he cuts him off. “I’ll be fine, I actually manage to sleep half the night..”</p>
<p>Henry looks like he wants to say something more, but whatever it is, he lets it slip. There’s a drag to his step as he walks, an uncertainty to his movements like he’s on the edge of being drunk. Alex doesn’t know what to make of it.</p>
<p>So he does what he knows and makes food. Back before leaving New York, he had included a small number of canned foods in his supplies. They looked like something a wanderer in the apocalypse would use and getting advice from movies did not seem like the worst idea at the time. It’s not like he had any sort of survival training.</p>
<p> There’s little chance the weird-smelling, watery soup thing will actually taste any good but once again they haven’t eaten since breakfast and if he’s being honest, Henry looked… ill before and ‘ill equals soup’ is an easy equation, even if said soup is utterly gross.</p>
<p>For once, Henry is asleep when he goes to check on him. Alex leaves his portion near the fire to keep it warm and sits down close to him to eat his own dinner, as quiet as he can be.</p>
<p>The telltale absence of sound doesn’t spare them tonight either. Alex tenses, his spine locking with anticipation as he feels the world sucked out of breath. Henry, too, though still out, freezes in his sleep, caught mid-breath as if it’s genuinely taken from him, a piece they would lose every night they shared their world with those creatures. He doesn’t wake until the first <em>bang </em>comes to the window, sudden and loud like thunder.</p>
<p>Henry jumps on the spot, his eyes large and frantic as they search the room for the sound. They land on Alex, who smiles in sympathy at him, and he starts to calm down, his panting evening out into deep yet even breaths.</p>
<p>Alex puts his food down and pushes himself to his feet.</p>
<p>“Where are you going?” Henry asks, watching him. A screeching sound that doesn’t even try to mask itself as human slips inside. Neither of them bothers to mask their cringing.</p>
<p>“Getting your food.”</p>
<p>“I can do that,” Henry points out, sitting up.</p>
<p>“Nope<em>.” </em></p>
<p>“And why not?”</p>
<p>Alex has to force himself to keep walking as he gets nearer the fireplace. This is what he doesn’t tell Henry: The fireplace is the only part of the building they haven’t completely barred. Even if Alex won’t exactly go sticking his head through the fire to take a peek outside, even if Henry assured him the monsters can’t fit through the chimney anyway, he can’t help this irrational fear that if he gets close enough he’s going to see <em>something. </em>Eyes. Claws. Whatever had Henry throwing up two days ago. The monsters were calling his name yesterday and Alex cannot help but feel like he’s finally answering their call. </p>
<p>And yet, despite all that, he’s never <em>ever </em>letting Henry catch another fucking glimpse of them. He’s done it twice so far and it has left him torn at the seams. Alex refuses to give him any more nightmares; he’s already fighting so much.</p>
<p>When he gets back, Henry is looking around with his eyes narrowed like he’s going to hear better if he scrutinizes the room. “Are they… quieter tonight or am I truly just too tired to care?”</p>
<p>Alex hands him the cup<em>. “ </em>I wanna say we’re getting used to them, but you might be right. It’s quieter. Almost tolerable.” </p>
<p>As if on cue, the door rattles with a fury. The screech returns for a second try, and this time it sounds closer. “<em>Almost</em>.”</p>
<p>Fuck, he wishes he could get rid of Henry’s scowl somehow. It’s been all but permanently carved into his face all day. </p>
<p>“Do you think it’s better that they’re quiet?’ Henry’s fingers clench around the metal cup. The lines around his eyes harden. “Or should we be preparing for something worse?”</p>
<p>“Have you always been such a ray of sunshine?”</p>
<p>He huffs, and at least that eases his expression somewhat. “I’m not the most optimistic.”</p>
<p>“And yet you thought Empire was too dark.”</p>
<p>Henry turns to look at him. He’s glad to see his eyes are definitely focused now, the glazed over loss from before nowhere to be found, but his stare is intense and so unreadable Alex feels like he’s the one who’s left to wander this time. “Doesn’t it make sense? If the world is such a dark place sometimes, shouldn’t we celebrate all the happy endings we can get?”</p>
<p>A smile plays on Alex’s lips but can’t take hold, confused as he is by the odd emotion in Henry’s gaze. “You—<em>Motherfucker!” </em> </p>
<p>The bang came from the fucking ceiling. If the next one comes from the floor, he’s going to start screaming. And they might <em>copy </em>that.</p>
<p>Henry pulls his knees close to his chest, looking around him, all pressed lips and furrowed brows. “Should we… read again? Or play a game or something? Something boring so we can tire each other out perhaps?” He tries for a smile too, and it’s almost enough.</p>
<p>Alex searches the room (or rooms, he supposes) for something to spark an idea. And then he realizes that since they’ve already picked the most inconvenient place to spend the night anyway, they might as well use it. “Why don’t we do this? We have a big place full of furniture and color palettes and tiles and fabrics. An indeterminate amount of horror ahead of us tonight. An unlimited budget because it’s a fantasy and I’ve <em>been </em>to your place, I doubt you’ve had a single fucking choice in decorating it. If you had to make a house from scratch, what would it be?”</p>
<p>Henry looks at him for a second, lips parted in surprise. Alex gets up to his feet and extends a hand. “Come on, let’s take a proper look around.”</p>
<p>If the monsters want to be quiet, Alex intends to take full advantage of it for as long as he can. </p>
<p>It’s the first time they don’t spare the night huddled together and unmoving. Instead, he gets to listen to Henry show off a surprisingly competent sense of style that he’s willing to defend with a passion when Alex pushes him. They argue over kitchen cabinets and the usefulness of rugs. They pick three different tiles and they can’t settle, until Alex announces, ‘well, <em>fuck</em> <em>it</em>, we’ll have three bathrooms then!” and Henry laughs, eyes shining with some sort of wonder he doesn’t understand. Only halfway through the game does Alex realize they ended up making a house for the both of them, but it’s too much fun for him to care. </p>
<p>At the end, they find themselves spread on the couch, a fabric binder placed between them and they discuss the samples inside, making fun of the patterns themselves, and more often than not, each other’s taste in them.</p>
<p>“Well, it’s a fucking shame the world has broken,” Alex declares when they’re through, tossing the binder aside. “Because that house would have been the shit and now we can’t make it.”</p>
<p>Henry burrows deeper into the couch, a lazy grin directed his way. “Because otherwise, we would be roommates?” His hair is spread around in a halo the cushion. It’s gotten a bit too long by now after two months in isolation and it softens him in a way, makes him seem younger. With the glow of the fire to shed light on him, he looks unreal.</p>
<p>“We found each other by <em>chance </em>in a city neither of us was supposed to be in, in the middle of the apocalypse,” Alex laughs, giving him a half-hearted shove. “Maybe we <em> would </em>be, you don’t know!”</p>
<p>Henry joins him and the sound is quiet yet unabashed. He can’t wrap his head around the way it keeps bouncing in his mind, long after Henry stops. </p>
<p>Alex closes his eyes and lets himself relax, positive that tonight he might actually sleep. As he tries to doze off, he listens to Henry’s breathing, and when he too, quiets down into sleep, Alex thinks, perhaps for the first time, that they might be okay.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>. . . mmm-hmm. Sure Jan.</p>
<p>Quick few things: The interconnected storyline in 'those markings' has updated so if you haven't seen that already, uhh, enjoy. For those who don't know, tmoys is supposed to be a fic prompt collection but even if the fics all (except the last one) stand on their own, half of them at this point make a coherent storyline. It's very angsty and way too dramatic, so if you're into that, check it out!</p>
<p>For THIS fic, chapter five is where the interesting part starts and I hope you're all as excited as I am now that we're about to go there! This chapter was a lot softer in pretty much all elements, but like the monsters were quieter tonight, consider it your short break XD I hope you enjoyed the chapter still even if it wasn't too exciting! Please let me know what you thought!!</p>
<p>Till next time~~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. the last thing I heard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are only so many disasters Alex can’t prevent. As much as he wishes to keep Henry safe, it’s hard to protect him from his own recklessness, and although he tries, ready to fight the world for the little bubble of companionship they’ve made with each other, there are some battles he just has to learn to lose. But damn it, he’ll fight them anyway.</p>
<p>“No, no, no, <em> no. </em> What the <em>hell </em> do you think you’re doing?” Alex yells, rushing over to the car, almost dropping the last of their things in the process. “Get out. Get out of there right now!” He slams his hand against the driver’s side window, glaring at the self-satisfied little smirk Henry gives him from behind it. On the <em> driver’s </em> seat. That fucker is going to get them both killed. “<em>Henry I-Don’t-Actually-Know-The-Rest-Of-Your-Name, </em>I mean it!”</p>
<p>“No. You drove for eight bloody hours yesterday. I am surprisingly well-rested. The road is <em> still </em>empty. I’m driving. End of discussion. Get to your seat.”</p>
<p>“I don’t see how this can be an ‘end of discussion’ when we <em> haven’t discussed this,” </em>he grumbles, undeterred, but still rounds the car to get to the passenger’s side. He slams the door too hard, still not done talking. “I mean, it’s the apocalypse, there are honestly easier and possibly even painless ways to die—”</p>
<p>“Do shut up.”</p>
<p>Henry turns on the ignition and Alex grabs the handles as if his life depends on it (because it fucking <em> does </em>). </p>
<p>“Alex, I can do this. Shaan always drove when we were abroad. It’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>“Shaan doesn’t count! Shaan also has a motorcycle license. Can <em> you </em>drive a motorcycle, Your Royal Fucking Highness?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Henry shrugs and starts driving, soon pulling out into the road. His movements are tense in the beginning, careful and calculated, but before long he gets used to it and eases into his seat. Alex is still staring at him, barely blinking. “What?”</p>
<p>“Did you just fucking say <em> yes? </em>”</p>
<p>Henry chuckles like he hasn’t skewered Alex’s perception <em> again </em>. “Shaan taught me when I was younger. Don’t tell my brother.” He flinches once he realizes what he said. “Er, either way, yes.” He turns to Alex, trying to hide the way he hurt himself so carelessly and gives him another small smirk. It doesn’t anger him this time. It’s… Alex can’t look away from him. “You really shouldn’t underestimate me so much.”</p>
<p>Alex is still staring. “Clearly…”</p>
<p>Henry shifts his attention back to the road, slipping into some thought he refuses to share.</p>
<p>As much as Alex loathes to admit it, Henry does seem to have a good handle of the car, though he did see him fumbling with his hands at one point. And yeah, it would be nice for them to share the load of driving, considering they both tended to run on little sleep.</p>
<p>“So… what <em> is </em> your full name, anyway?” he asks after a while.</p>
<p>Henry sighs through his nose. “You don’t want to know.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m so excited.”</p>
<p>“The family name is Mountchristen-Windsor. With my dad’s it’s Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, though we sometimes just go by Wales.”</p>
<p>Alex narrows his eyes at him. “Ouch on the three names but Henry Wales is not that bad. Do you have a middle name?”</p>
<p>He can <em>hear </em>the groan in Henry’s expression without him even opening his mouth. “I have… a few.”</p>
<p>“A <em> few </em>?”</p>
<p>Henry rolls his eyes before he replies and for a road that’s been empty for three days now, he’s paying an intense amount of attention to it. “Henry George… Edward… James… Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.”</p>
<p>“You’re fucking with me, right?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I wish.” He sighs again, shrugging. “It’s frankly not the most absurd of the family’s traditions. I do find some irony in the fact that the name <em> Henry </em> itself is supposed to be the <em> ruler of his household, </em>even though I’m the second-in-line.”</p>
<p>“Your parents didn’t frequent baby-names-dot-org or whatever before naming you?” Alex huffs and smiles when Henry lets out a quiet laugh in return.</p>
<p>“I suppose there was no need since royals only pick from the same basket of names every time. Meanwhile, Philip is just <em> so </em> very fond of horses.”</p>
<p>“Okay, <em> now </em> you’re fucking with me.”</p>
<p>“This time, I’m very pleased to say that I am not.”</p>
<p>They drive for another few hours. They talk about their families, with a cautious fondness that wavers into territories they don’t want to touch but lingers just outside of them. They discuss pop culture Alex still can’t believe Henry knows. Henry’s doing a good job with the driving too, and he realizes he’s never seen him do this before; he always kind of assumed princes get driven everywhere, another basic skill they’re too good to learn. One day Alex will find a way to swallow the knowledge about the motorcycle, and as he watches (perhaps for a bit too long) the way Henry handles himself behind the wheel, he can’t shake the mental image from his mind for some reason.</p>
<p>“Our gas is running low,” Henry notes, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Should I stop somewhere?”</p>
<p>“I think I saw a sign for a Speedway up ahead?”</p>
<p>“A what?”</p>
<p>“Just—I’ll tell you.”</p>
<p>Two minutes later, the Speedway does show up as advertised and Henry pulls into the parking lot. Alex is about to exit the car to check the gas pump when Henry grabs his wrist, an intense look on his face as he stares ahead into the parking lot. “I think there’s someone here.”</p>
<p>“What?” Alex leans forward in his seat, trying to find whatever shook Henry so much, but other than a few parked cars, nothing is out of the ordinary. “We’ve seen parked cars before.”</p>
<p>Henry points at the car with his free hand, the other still firmly attached to Alex’s. “No, look. It’s not <em>lined</em>. This is exactly the kind of haphazard parking you do when you know no one is going to miss the spot. This happened after the change. I’m certain of it. I don’t know if the owners are inside or not, but—” He turns to him, catching Alex’s gaze in his own, a tempest trapped in the blue. “Be careful, okay? And let me come with you?”</p>
<p>Alex swallows down the nameless emotion that climbs up his throat at that look. “Isn’t that kind of stupid? It’s safer if one of us remains in the car.”</p>
<p>“Safer for whom?”</p>
<p>“For… the one who stays in the car, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Then you’d let me go while you stay here?”</p>
<p><em> No, </em> Alex wants to say as if on instinct, and he gets Henry’s point at last. “Fine, come with me. Wait five minutes so we don’t both go in at the same time and bring the gun. Lock the car <em> well</em>, I’ve seen too many movies where someone steals their damn car and I don’t feel like living <em> that </em> cliche along with everything else.”</p>
<p>His hair stands in the back of his neck as he makes his way to the store, his gun in both hands, half-lowered but at the ready. He pays attention to his breaths, in and out, steady, measured, trying to keep the same calm mindset throughout the whole process and distract himself before he can overthink about what he’s doing.</p>
<p>Besides, maybe Henry is wrong. Maybe it’s as abandoned as everything before. </p>
<p>Like the previous gas station where Alex didn’t even notice the woman until she scared the crap out of him.</p>
<p>Fuck him, he’s going to die.</p>
<p>He pushes the glass door open, fighting back a sigh of relief at the lack of a wind-chime. There’s no sound inside, but Alex still remembers the way Henry teased him for it and he refuses to call any attention to himself this time. He makes his way around the shelves, on alert for any noise. But there’s no one in there.</p>
<p>Honestly, Henry really needed to stop being so—</p>
<p>“Put your gun down, slowly, or I shoot.”</p>
<p>Alex freezes, biting down a string of curses that would make his own mother disown him if she heard. “I—”</p>
<p>“<em>Now</em>. Gun first, talk later. Don’t you dare fucking underestimate me.” It’s a woman’s voice and it sounds as pissed as Alex feels. He’s really fucking tired of people telling him to drop the gun. He didn’t want to carry it in the <em>first </em>place.</p>
<p>Alex lowers himself to place it on the floor, then turns around to meet his current captor. It is a girl, not too much older than him, with a mess of frizzy brown waves tied in a loosened ponytail and a pair of black eyes that look, to his surprise, not as angry as her voice would imply. Her clothes are torn and stained with mud and though she seems unharmed, there’s an old-looking scar on the top of her forehead.</p>
<p>The door opens again and Alex realizes it wasn’t as inaudible as he thought he was. He tenses, his heart clenching at the idea of Henry getting caught up in this. The woman shoots him a warning look. <em> ‘Call them here,’ </em> she mouths and the threatening look in her eyes tells him enough of what will happen if he tries to warn him.</p>
<p>Alex grits his teeth, glaring at her. “<em>Alex!” </em>he calls. “Come check this out.”</p>
<p>“Where are you?” Henry asks, and he’s proud of himself for not showing the relief on his face.</p>
<p>“Middle aisle from the fridges.”</p>
<p>The woman peers behind Alex, keeping an eye on the place Alex directed Henry to come from.</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t move.” </em> He hears Henry’s voice before he sees him, but when he does, he too goes rigid as if the order was for him. Henry shows up behind them, opposite from where Alex told him to go,  his hands steady as he points the gun at her. A cold mask has come over his face, his features pinned in silent, lurking fury, evident only in the unnatural stillness that surrounds him and the way his gaze, and only his gaze, is alight with a firestorm of a protective kind of rage. “Let him go.”</p>
<p>She opens her mouth to say something (or swear really loudly—Alex can understand that sentiment at least) but ends up loosening her grip on the gun and placing it down next to Alex’s with a drawn-out, frustrated groan.</p>
<p>Henry still hasn’t lowered his, shifting his gaze between her and Alex. “Are you all right?”</p>
<p>In all honesty, Alex is shaken. And it might not even be because of the whole gun-in-his-face situation. A mess of fear and concern and confusion is twisting his stomach into knots. He can’t shake off the spike of terror that cut through him when he had to call for Henry. He can’t chase away the image of him, cold and determined, altered to hide his true emotions behind it. Alex saw it in the tight grip he had on the weapon. His hands may have been steady, but it cost him a lot to make them that way.</p>
<p>“Alex?” Henry asks again, more urgent now.</p>
<p>“Wait, <em> he’s </em> Alex?” the woman says. “Oh, fuck you both.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, no, I’m good. Sorry.” He turns his attention back to her, trying to ignore the nasty feeling in his stomach. “And <em> you </em>are?”</p>
<p>She huffs, but must figure out there’s no actual harm in giving away her name. “Lisa.”</p>
<p>Except Alex can actually recognize her now. “Wait—Lisa Thomson?”</p>
<p>“What?” Both Henry and Lisa said at the same time.</p>
<p>“You’re Eva’s niece, right? She told us to keep an eye out for you.”</p>
<p>Lisa raises her brows, then smirks, giving Henry, or rather his still raised gun, a pointed look. “Oh, good job. You definitely have <em> something </em>out for me.”</p>
<p>“Oh, shut up. You threatened me first.”</p>
<p>“Youcame in here with a gun.”</p>
<p>Another voice joins them from the door. “And you did such a great job stopping them, didn’t you, Lizzie?”</p>
<p>Alex is starting to get tired of all these strangers. A man and a woman are at the door, mid-forties, or early fifties. The woman is standing at the front, arms crossed in front of her chest, a sneer on her face, wavering between amused and threatening. She walks over, eating them up with her eyes, taking in every detail. She stays too long on Alex and he knows she must recognize him.</p>
<p>“They’re good, Frankie,” Lisa says, taking a step closer to Alex. “We had a little misunderstanding, that’s all.”</p>
<p>Her muddy brown hair is pulled into a messy bun and there are deep crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, laughter lines around her mouth. “Oh, I’m sure they are, doll. I have to admit, I never thought I’d run into a damn Claremont kid at the end of the world. Now it <em> really </em> feels like a movie.”</p>
<p><em> Yeah</em>, Alex thinks. <em> And I want to know if you’re an ally or a villain. </em></p>
<p>“I’m Frankie. This is my husband, Danny,” she nods towards the man behind her. </p>
<p>At six-feet-tall and built bigger on the upper body than the lower, he cuts an intimidating figure, though Alex can’t help but wonder if the long honey blond hair and beard is a result of the isolation or an unfortunate stylistic choice his wife hasn’t been kind enough to dissuade. </p>
<p>“Where are you two headed?”</p>
<p>“Where’s Martin?” Lisa asks, glancing at the door.</p>
<p>Frankie’s faux friendly expression cracks with annoyance. “He went to the fast-food place across the lot, freezer-diving.”</p>
<p>“Martin’s my nephew,” Danny says. “We kinda… got stuck with him.” Alex shares a quick look with Henry, unsure of how to communicate with him. “And your friend?”</p>
<p>Alex’s breath catches. Henry must have planned ahead. “Harry,” he introduces himself, offering a hand. Well, he supposes that’s not <em>wrong</em>. It is a nickname. A stupid nickname, but a nickname nonetheless. “Nice to meet you.”</p>
<p>“You boys gonna stay with us tonight? We’re going to board up this place.”</p>
<p>Alex puts on his most charming smile. “We were just going to grab some supplies and leave. Get out of your way.”</p>
<p>Lisa straightens next to him as Danny scoffs. “You’re going to grab our supplies and leave? Without helping?”</p>
<p>Alex doesn’t fucking blink. “Hah, sorry, I probably misheard. Did you say <em> your </em> supplies?”</p>
<p>“Alex…” Henry warns. “We’ll just go.”</p>
<p>He wants to agree with him. He didn’t spend two months in isolation avoiding monsters to get into a fight with <em>these </em>selfish bastards. But Lisa’s hand brushes along his back and grabs a fistful of his shirt, like a child holding on to their mother. And he knows what he has to do. “Fine, then. We’ll go in the morning. How can we help?”</p>
<p>Ten minutes later, he and Henry are helping cover up windows, working side by side in heated silence. Heated, because Henry is fuming next to him. Martin did show up at some point, a willow of a man, maybe Henry’s age, or maybe just younger than Alex. Small blond curls and a pair of thick-framed glasses. He greeted them the moment he saw them with a smile, then got scolded within seconds by Frankie, too harsh and for no good reason. Alex remembers the look on Henry’s face as he watched, shaken and furious and heartbroken on someone else’s behalf. He also remembers how sick he felt to have held him back from interfering.</p>
<p>Which is why he’s fuming.</p>
<p>“Look, I know you’re mad—” Alex whispers</p>
<p>“<em>Mad </em> ?” Henry hisses, and, wow, his accent comes out stronger when he’s that enraged. How has Alex failed to bring that out before? “No, why would I be <em>mad</em>? Because you signed us up to spend the night locked in a tight place with strangers that don’t seem particularly unwilling to murder us in our bloody sleep? Or is it because one of said strangers spent the past five minutes <em>yelling </em>at a person pretty much for just existing in the same space as them? Do you know what I—” His eyes widen and he shakes the thought away quickly. “He obviously doesn’t want to be here with them—”</p>
<p>“Exactly. Lisa, too. Something is going on here. We’ll watch them. We’ll be careful. And tomorrow we’ll take with us anyone who can’t run on their own, okay?”</p>
<p>Henry looks startled, lips parted in surprise. He blinks at him, shaping words yet letting them drift unspoken. Alex goes to call his name but Henry must give up at last because he pushes himself to his feet and rushes out of the store.</p>
<p>Alex follows after him.</p>
<p>He finds Henry sitting on the hood of their car, facing away from him. He has his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He’s too tall for a stance like this; he looks bent in half, weighed down by the sky above him. Alex reaches a hand towards him when he nears, but hesitates to touch him for a moment. Then he thinks <em>fuck it</em>, and places it on his back anyway. Henry doesn’t jump at a touch and it’s such a small, wonderful win.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. I should have asked you first,” Alex sighs, sitting down next to him and bumping their shoulders together. “I thought you’d be okay with it.”</p>
<p>Henry straightens his spine, his hands still open in front of him, palms facing upwards like he’s begging to some higher power. When he turns to him, Alex’s confidence in his words falters. Henry’s eyes are wide and tired all the same, emotions stirring inside them he cannot decipher, but he sees them, in the way his lips are pressed weakly together, the twitch of his hands in the corner of Alex’s vision like he wants to reach for something he can’t quite grasp.</p>
<p>“Of course I’m okay with it,” he says, his voice thick.</p>
<p>Alex frowns. “Okay, then why are you mad at me now?”</p>
<p>“I’m not mad at you.”</p>
<p>“Bullshit, come on.” He scooches closer to Henry, pushing against his shoulder on purpose. “Tell me. Ride or die together, right?”</p>
<p>Henry flinches as if struck. The sight makes Alex’s stomach turn. “You’re really freaking me out now. What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>“Nothing is wrong. Nothing at all.” He tries to turn away but Alex puts his hand on his shoulder, urging him to face his way. Henry looks… tortured. There’s no other word for it. “You did a good thing. And you didn’t think twice about it because you <em> cared </em>.”</p>
<p>Tension is building between them, Alex can feel it crackling in the air between them, mixing with their breaths too close to one another.</p>
<p>“Should I have? I don’t get it.”</p>
<p>“What? No, of course not.” Henry closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opens them again, there’s an unreadable question in them that doesn’t match the one he voices. “Why did you ask me to come with you?”</p>
<p>“We’ve talked about this—”</p>
<p>“No, I mean—” He huffs, frowning when he can’t find his words. “Why are you so adamant that- that you risk yourself… I know what you were doing yesterday. With the fireplace. And you always insist on going in places first with some half-arsed excuse. Why?”</p>
<p>Alex opens his mouth to speak, expecting the words to come with ease to his lips. Because… Because… He doesn’t get any further than that. “It’s…” Alex swallows hard. “I want to- I just want you to be safe.” But he gets where Henry gets stuck. He can’t put the words down for it either. “It’s… I don’t know, Henry, it’s you.” He can’t think of another way to describe it, because he’s not sure he understands <em>what </em>it is he’s describing.</p>
<p>Henry is looking at him like he knows.</p>
<p>Before Alex can process what’s happening, Henry has closed the distance between them. </p>
<p>Alex’s breath catches as Henry’s lips find his own, and the tension that sparked between them he feels it in his stomach. His hands cradle Alex’s face; he holds him like he’s the thing he’s been asking the heavens for. Dry lips, chapped on the surface, touch him with both care and abandon, and Alex, before he can think it through, lets himself push back. He’s close enough to feel him <em>smile </em>against him, and the immensity of the feeling sends his mind reeling, torn from the world they live in, and though the one he finds himself in doesn’t make sense, he doesn’t <em>think </em>it does, he swears Henry has taken the broken pieces of what their reality once was and rearranged them <em>at last </em>into something that’s whole, something to hold on to.</p>
<p>He tries to shift in his position, but slips, gasping when their lips part. </p>
<p>The sound must drag Henry back down too, for he pushes away from him. He stares, mouth agape, eyes blown wide and terrified. “I—Shit, I’m sorry, I-”</p>
<p>Alex can only stare back, mind clattering as it tries to put the Earth back in rotation. </p>
<p>Henry bolts.</p>
<p>He reaches a hand out to him to stop him from leaving but he’s already too far away.</p>
<p>“Alex! Can you give me a quick hand?” Lisa calls from the door to the store.</p>
<p>With Henry gone, he has no reason not to follow her. He’ll come back. There’s nowhere else for him to go anyway. He’ll come back and they’ll talk about this.</p>
<p>As he waits, he tries to put an order to his thoughts but too many things are realigning and they give new context to the clues of a mystery he didn’t know he’s been trying to solve. Every stupid thing Alex has said to him rings in accusation, every time Henry tried to tell him taking the front spot, glaring.</p>
<p>
  <em> What the fuck could possibly still be stressing you out now? </em>
</p>
<p><em> You. </em>He thought he had been cut off.</p>
<p>And Alex’s own words, the ones he couldn’t describe. He wonders if he can now, but he won’t allow himself to try because there’s already so, so much for him to process, a cluster of memories blown away by the fucking hurricane that is Henry, leaving chaos in his wake. Henry who looked soft when he slept, who caught his gaze as if it belonged to him, whose genuine smiles never failed to make Alex grin back.</p>
<p>It’s too much and all at once; he wishes he had someone to talk to. He wishes he could go to June or Nora, have someone spell out what this means to him, or at least help him admit it to himself because he’s pretty sure he knows what’s happening here, even if it goes against what he knows about himself. Or maybe it doesn’t and fuck—has he always been… oblivious?</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Lisa asks him, as they finish up rearranging a place for everyone to sleep. They can hear Frankie arguing with Martin nearby, but they’re not loud enough to catch why. “You look distracted. Where’s your friend?”</p>
<p>His friend. Huh. Right. What did this mean for their… their friendship? What do you call a person you once hated (or thought you hated) then faked a friendship with, then started talking to for real and before you could figure out whatever the hell <em>that </em>was, the world as you knew it decided to end and you found yourselves… riding the apocalypse together? And then, <em> then </em> this person kissed you. What do you call <em>that</em>?</p>
<p>“He, uh, he needed some space.” She raises a brow at him. “From me, mostly. I guess.”</p>
<p>Lisa chuckles. “Sure, okay. He should get back soon though, they’re about to board up the door, it’s the only spot left.”</p>
<p>His stomach clenches with concern long before his head catches up with the words she said. “What?” He lifts his gaze towards the door and he can’t mistake the fiery red light for anything but a sun too low on the horizon. And although the glare burns his eyes, the dread inside runs freezing cold. “He- he’ll be back soon. He has to be.”</p>
<p>She bites down hard on her lips and nods, her brows pushed together. It’s weird how this morning they had guns on each other. Then again this morning Henry hadn’t <em>kissed </em>him. Henry hadn’t left. Henry was next to him and Alex wasn’t worried out of his mind that he wouldn’t return for the night.</p>
<p>No. That’s nonsense. He’s not stupid. No matter how much he doesn’t want to talk to Alex, he won’t <em>die </em>over it.</p>
<p>“I told you I don’t want to go!” Martin exclaims. </p>
<p>He and Lisa exchange a look, before walking over there to see what’s going on.</p>
<p>“It will take you half an hour tops. You have plenty of time,” Frankie insists, her own voice calm yet leaving no room for an argument. “Go be useful.”</p>
<p>“But—”</p>
<p>“The longer you wait, the less time you’ll have to be back.”</p>
<p>Martin turns to Lisa, near tears with a plea in his eyes. Frankie gives her the dirtiest side-look Alex has ever seen, and he’s gotten a great share of them.</p>
<p>“Just go really fast, Martin,” His name wavers as she says it, her voice heavy with heartbreak “You can make it in time go.” </p>
<p>It’s nothing compared to the hurt that takes over his expression at the rejection but he does as told.</p>
<p>“Should we go with him?” he asks Lisa.</p>
<p>“You should stay here and help us finish up, make some dinner,” Danny says instead, too monotone. </p>
<p>Alex notices the bulge of the gun on the inside of his jacket, and another on the back of Frankie’s jeans. He really should have taken Henry and left.</p>
<p>Where <em>is </em> Henry?</p>
<p>Alex heads to the bathroom in the back, splashes some water on his face, trying to get the sight of Martin’s face out of his head or to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to tell Henry when he returns (after scolding him for missing for <em>hours </em>when the sun is already this low).</p>
<p>Strange sounds come from outside, luring him out into the store, and only when he opens the door does he realize the sound is Lisa crying, desperate sobs from deep inside her throat. Alex runs to the door.</p>
<p>“Don’t get any closer,” Frankie warns, giving a quick jolt to the gun pointed at Lisa. “And don’t think about drawing your own weapon either.”</p>
<p>“What the <em> hell </em> is going on?”</p>
<p>Lisa is on her knees on the floor, hands covering her mouth as she sobs, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She turns to him, begging with her eyes. Frankie is pointing a gun at her to threaten both of them and of course, it fucking works except he doesn’t know <em>why</em>. Danny is at the door and he’s… </p>
<p>He’s barricading it.</p>
<p>No, he can’t be. They’re still… </p>
<p>“It hasn’t been thirty minutes yet…” Alex whispers, his mouth numb.</p>
<p>His insides twist and twist and <em>twist</em>, scrunching him up like a piece of fabric, bending him over in pain. He clutches at his middle, trying to breathe through the panic that spreads like ice through his veins and leaves him trembling. “You can’t close them yet, they’re not <em> back </em>.”</p>
<p>“That’s not my problem.”</p>
<p>He turns to her and he hates the angry tears that reach his eyes but venom gathers in his voice, hissing. “You sent him out there on <em> purpose </em> .” Lisa gasps another shaky sob. “There are easier ways to kill someone, you fucking <em> bitch </em>.”</p>
<p>“We’re giving him a fighting chance,” says Danny as he drags an emptied shelf in front of the now boarded up door to give it a final barrier.</p>
<p>“A fighting chance with the <em> monsters </em>?” Lisa screams.</p>
<p>Alex can’t look away from the door. His brain goes into overdrive, trying to come up with a plan. A list. A <em> list, </em>make a fucking list.</p>
<p>     1.</p>
<p>     1.</p><ol>
<li>They’ve blocked the door.</li>
<li>You can’t get in the store anymore.</li>
<li>You can’t find a boarded up shelter anymore.</li>
<li>It’s too late to make a new one.</li>
<li>The sunset is almost over.</li>
<li>Henry-</li>
</ol>
<p>
  <em>     Henry henry henry </em>
</p><ol>
<li>Henry is still outside.</li>
<li>He’s still—</li>
</ol>
<p>     oh God, he’s still—</p>
<p>“Let me out,” Alex gasps, his breathing coming too fast, too shallow. He clenches his fists, trying to stop their shaking. “Let me out, let me <em> out </em>!”</p>
<p>“Alex—”</p>
<p>“If you won’t let them in, let me <em>out, he’s still out there! LET ME OUT!” </em> He makes a move towards the door.</p>
<p>A gun shoots at his feet and he stumbles backward, almost slipping to the floor.</p>
<p>“Shut up and sit down. The door is closed. No one is opening it again, especially not for a stupid reason.” Frankie levels the gun on him this time. “I’m sorry about your friend, but it’s not <em>our </em>fault he’s not here. He should have gotten his ass back sooner.”</p>
<p>He sinks to his knees, sliding down the nearest shelf for support. “Please. Please, you need to let me out.”</p>
<p>Lisa crawls over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Maybe he found himself another place to hide,” she whispers, squeezing him tighter for comfort. “He wanted some time away from you, right? Maybe he went somewhere else for the night.”</p>
<p>Maybe. Maybe he did. That fucker, if he did that without telling him… he’d kiss him again, kiss the fuck out of him and never let him out of his sight again. </p>
<p><em> I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Be safe. Come back to me in the morning. Please be safe</em>.</p>
<p>It’s going to be fine. Henry’s smart. He’s so smart Alex is in awe of it sometimes. There’s no way he won’t be okay in the morning. He made it for so long without him, Lisa’s probably right and he’s just—</p>
<p>“Alex?”</p>
<p>A voice comes from the other side, pitched with the beginnings of panic and when the world slips beneath his feet, Alex wishes he had known how to hold on to it longer. The answer he gave him what felt like a lifetime ago, is ringing in his mind, mocking and sharp enough to hurt him.</p>
<p>
  <em> I didn’t want to wonder what happened to you. </em>
</p>
<p>“<em>HENRY! </em>”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>. . .  So the rest of the title may or may not have been 'was you whispering goodbye'. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
<p>Hey, there! This was a BIG chapter and it's one of the scenes I had in mind that convinced me I needed to write the continuation. So I really really hope you enjoyed as much as I did. Please let me know what you thought~</p>
<p>P.S. Big thanks to hms-chill for the Shaan-teaches-Henry-to-ride-a-motorcycle headcanon (and the permission for me to go with it) &lt;3 Check out her stuff, it's AMAZING.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. brace yourself for all will pay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, @hms-chill wrote motorcycle Henry for those who were asking for that, so please go appreciate that too!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Lisa holds him as he sobs, her grip too tight around his shoulders, his waist, afraid he’ll rush over to the door and get himself shot. He might. He just might.</p><p>It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it <em> hurts</em>, a tonne of lead strapped to his chest, dragging him towards the floor, bending him in half. It was <em>his </em>idea. He told Henry he wanted to spend the night. He signed them up for this without even asking him first, and now he would—he might— <em> might </em>lose Henry over this. And for what? Martin was definitely going to die. For Lisa? He traded Henry’s life for a <em> stranger</em>?</p><p>Frankie goes closer to the door, with a warning glance at Alex first. “We already locked up here. You’re gonna have to find somewhere else to go, princeling.” She sneers when Alex’s head snaps up. “Yeah, I knew. Wasn’t certain, but you slipped up and called him Henry now.”</p><p>Alex’s gaze hardens.</p><p>“Alex?” Henry’s voice comes again from the other side. The panic has dissipated, replaced by an emotionless steadiness to it that he hopes is not defeat. If anyone can make it out there, it’s Henry. The scar on his face proves as much. Alex just needs to believe that and get him to believe it too. “Alex, are you in there? I need to know you’re okay.”</p><p>He’s going to be sick. “<em> I- </em>” His voice cracks. “I’m here! Henry, I—I’m so sorry, they won’t let me out.” </p><p>The words ring empty to his own ears, meaningless. Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m stuck here inside in the (relative) safety, when I’ve left you out there to die. But he doesn’t know how to tell him that he’d rather brave the monsters with him, if only so they die with a familiar face by their side, than stay here and wait for it to end, wondering which pieces of him would be left of him in the morning to keep fighting.</p><p>“What? No. No,<em> of course</em>, you’ll stay in there.”</p><p>“Henry—”</p><p>“Listen, I—” They speak at the same time, pause at the same time, too. </p><p>He wants to say he’s sorry. That Henry should not be sorry. He didn’t have enough time to process what happened earlier that day, but if he knows one thing with absolute certainty is that he needs him. That things are better when he’s there. Maybe they were forced together too fast and their circumstances pushed them to be intimate before they were ready, but Alex… Henry is the one good thing that came out of this, and he hates how oblivious he’s been and he’s terrified he’ll never have the chance to tell him how much he wants him close.</p><p><em> I’m sorry </em>is too risky, but he can’t afford to elaborate right now, not when Henry needs every second he can get to make himself safe. So what Alex says is this:</p><p>“Come back to me in the morning.”</p><p>The silence stretches so long he thinks Henry must have left already, and the thought leaves a hole in his chest, like something was taken from him that was supposed to be kept close. But then he hears him, and he swears he can see the look on his face, jaw set in defiance, blue eyes gleaming with purpose, the barest hint of a smile on lips that were meant to be on his. “I’ll try my best.”</p><p>Alex doesn’t mind that he doesn’t promise. It’s more honest that way. And it tells him that Henry understood.</p><p>Until Danny turns to him, his eyes narrowed, gun half-cocked in his direction. “You know he’s gonna die, right?”</p><p>“Go fuck yourself.”</p><p>“You wanna help me out? I saw what you and your ‘friend’ were doing outside.”</p><p>Cold shock washes over him. By the time the first string of curses starts coming, Lisa has already grabbed him by both arms and is dragging him towards the back of the store.</p><p>Alex is still seething when Lisa pushes him into the small employee bathroom, locking the door behind them. “Sit down,” she says, sharp like an order. “Breathe.”</p><p>He wants to protest but with the subject of his anger absent, the fight leaves him. The floor sways under his feet. Capping the toilet close, he sits down on it, putting his head between his hands. </p><p>“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” he admits. Anxiety pulls at his stomach, and he groans in pain at the pressure that’s building up behind his ears.</p><p>“Breathe. Head between your legs, come on.” Her hand rubs circles on his back, up and down in time with his breaths. “I am so sorry. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.”</p><p>Alex closes his eyes, hoping for the heat at the front of his head to start receding. “It’s not your fault,” he manages through clenched teeth. “I dragged myself into this. And I-I made him—Fuck, <em> fuck </em>.” He runs a hand through his hair, grabbing hold of the curls there and pulling, the sting at his roots grounding him into something real, until Lisa pries his hands away with more gentleness than he deserves. </p><p>She kneels down in front of him, tipping his head upward with two fingers under his chin, a question and an ocean of sympathy in her dark eyes. </p><p>Alex finds his words slipping under that stare. “I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to him. Not like this. And because of me—I promised myself I’d—”</p><p>He vowed never to let Henry anywhere near them. That he’d never even catch a glimpse because it haunted him so. And now… now…</p><p>“It’s not your fault. It’s not. And he can find shelter. He’s smart. Remember how you tricked me this morning?”</p><p>“That wasn’t that hard,” he laughs wetly, earning an amused glare from her. But he sobers up quickly. “There’s no time for him to close himself off. He won’t make it in time.”</p><p>“There’s plenty of—”</p><p>It’s a cruel joke, almost purposeful. If Alex believed in a wrathful universes and trickster gods he would have sworn this was on purpose. All of it. Meeting Henry in the last possible place. Kissing him at the worst possible moment. An attempt at kindness claiming from him the only thing he wished to keep safe. And now this.</p><p>Lisa is caught off mid-sentence by the one tell-tale sign that they’re already too late.</p><p>The world holds its breath for the night to come and Alex jumps to his feet in time with a terrified scream.</p><p>This time he’s sure it’s human.</p><p>“Alex, no!” Lisa calls as he rushes to the front of the store. She doesn’t get it. He needs to know. He has to.</p><p>The large windows are rattling behind the boards as if caught in a storm and Alex considers, maybe for the first time, that this wasn’t a good place to try to hide in after all, murderous bastards aside. Yet the newly discovered fragility of glass windows is not half as alarming to him as the frantic banging against the door. Or the pleading that comes with it.</p><p>Danny turns a gun to him when he sees him coming, and Alex has a perfect view of his impassive, stupid face as his nephew screams for him from the other side of the glass.</p><p>“Dan! Uncle Dan, please, please. Let me in!” Martin sobs, the sound coming straight from deep within his chest, tearing his throat on its way out. “Please, please!”</p><p>Lisa runs up to Alex, clutching into his arm. “This is barbaric! You fucking <em> monsters </em>!”</p><p>Frankie glowers at them. “You wanna join him?”</p><p>“Yes!” counters Alex, earning a protective tug backward from Lisa as Frankie scrunches her nose in disgust.</p><p>Or maybe it isn’t for him at all. The smell of burning reaches his nose, making him frown. That’s new.</p><p>A heavy <em>bang </em>reverberates on the glass window. </p><p>Alex’s breath catches at the menacing crack that follows it. He feels Lisa tremble next to him. Then Martin gasps, and though Alex can recognize the words he speaks next, they are so distorted in their fear, they could have come from the monsters instead. </p><p>“No, no, no, they’re <em>here. I see it. No. NO.” </em></p><p>His knees tremble beneath him when another voice joins the fray. “<em> Martin!” </em>Henry calls from somewhere far away. so far away. “Come with me! Follow me! Hurry!”</p><p>Alex’s mind short-circuits.</p><p>He’s outside.</p><p>He’s outside. <em> He’s outside. He’s OUTSIDE. </em></p><p>And they’re there with him.</p><p>Like metal scratching against glass, a high-pitched screech slices the air, joined in a second by a gut-wrenching scream that moves <em>away </em>from them. Alex covers his ears against the sound, tremors running up his spine. The volume rise towards them again, twice as panicked. It rises to a horrifying crescendo, then, with a definite <em>slam </em>against the door, it dies mid-song with a sickening sound.</p><p><em> Crack</em>.</p><p>Alex stares, unseeing towards the door, frozen still. He doesn’t blink until the first line of black liquid he’s seen stain so many surfaces before slips under the door. It spreads in inkblot patterns, dark and viscous.</p><p>Somewhere in the background he thinks he hears Henry call out Martin’s name. There’s a weird, ceaseless sound next to him he thinks might be Lisa. He still can’t turn to look. And then… then he hears Henry’s voice again. He thinks. No, it can’t be. That’s not Henry. Henry doesn’t <em>sound </em>like that. Henry has never sounded in- in-</p><p>He.</p><p>He wouldn’t scream like that.</p><p>The banging doesn’t stop. Again and again, something crashes hard against the glass.</p><p>And when it hits the place where the crack was heard before, there’s finally a smashing sound.</p><p>Shattered pieces rain between the boards. The wood starts to strain next. </p><p>Frankie yells, big eyes towards the opening, while Danny points his gun at it like it could ever stop them.</p><p>“Let’s go!” Lisa yells, taking his hand and pulling him forward. Alex stumbles behind her, his neck stretched to look behind him, to witness what is about to happen, maybe to catch a glimpse of Henry. He doesn’t. But between two blinks, so fast he’s sure he imagined it, he catches sight of an angry red glow hidden in the distance. </p><p>Is that where the smell…?</p><p>For the second time that night, Lisa shoves him in the bathroom but this time she doesn’t waste a second to be nice. She positions herself on the side of the heavy supply cabinet and pushes, the metal screeching against the floor. “Help me,” Lisa begs, tears in her eyes. “Hurry!”</p><p>Alex is frozen, his eyes darting between her and the door she’s trying to secure. “But—” His pulse rushes too loud to his ears. “The window. If it was opened, we could- we can let Henry in. We can help him.”</p><p>The heavy sob she heaves breaks the illusion he has made for himself. It echoes deep with fear and loud in its grief, straight from her beating heart, the one she wants to keep that way. Alex knows what she’s going to say before she can even form the thought, and he’s still just as unprepared to hear it.</p><p>“Alex, he’s <em>gone </em>. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But he is. You-you heard that—I know you heard it.”</p><p>“That was <em> Martin</em>,” Alex gasps, reaching a hand towards the nearest wall when his knees start trembling beneath him. “Martin was the one who screamed.”</p><p>“And after that? I <em> know </em>you heard it. I know you know what that sound was.” </p><p>Alex is shaking his head, biting his lip so hard it draws blood. He tastes the metal on his tongue and he wonders how much of that red he would find in the morn—</p><p>“<em> No</em>. No.”</p><p>“Please. <em> Please</em>, Alex. I don’t want to be next.” Lisa places her hands on his arms, pulling at him towards the cabinet, to help her save them both. “Please. He wouldn’t want you—”</p><p>“Shut up!” he snaps before she can finish that sentence. “Fuck,<em> fuck</em>, I’ll help, but shut the fuck up. Not now.”</p><p>She nods, lips pressed into a tense line, and together they push the cabinet in place. Not a second too soon. As soon as Alex takes a step back, a harsh thud rattles the metal back panel. Wood cracks behind it.</p><p>“N-no,” Lisa breathes, covering her mouth with her hands.</p><p>Alex needs to close his eyes for a precious second. “Come on.” He takes a seat right in front of the cabinet, his back to it, legs stretched to push against the closest wall. “There’s nothing left to do, just keep the pressure.”</p><p>“A-all ni-night?” she stammers, yet lodges herself next to him, anyway.</p><p>“All fucking—”</p><p>Lisa cries out when the tiny glass window breaks in the stall. They didn’t even fucking notice it was there. It’s the side of Alex’s head, there’s no way anything could fit through it. Not enough to reach them.</p><p>He pulls her into his arms and does he wished he could have done for Henry so many times before. As the first tendril of what he can only assume is the creature’s hand stretches through the window to catch the barest touch of them, Alex pushes her face into the crook of his neck and holds her close, blocking her vision. His shirt is soaked within seconds, but it doesn’t take him much longer to realize he’s crying too, fat, silent tears that fail to blur his sight enough not to see the <em>thing </em>that’s sneaking through the small gap.</p><p>Digits thin like bones yet twice as long, in an off-black that’s <em>alive </em>and moving like the heart molten lava. They crook like branches in unnatural directions, and as they move, they curl and uncurl as if in search of something. Little is <em>hand-like </em>about them, but Alex knows they’re meant to grab him.</p><p>The rough not-skin <em>breathes </em>in its glowing undertone and for a second alone, he becomes so detached to want to let it.</p><p>That’s when it speaks.</p><p>“<em>AuleX.</em>”</p><p>No. No. Fucking. Hell. No.</p><p>Lisa raises her head towards him, eyes blown wide with horror. “Did it just—?”</p><p>“<em>Aahlex</em>.”</p><p>Alex starts crying. Real, loud, gasping cries. At least with so much wetness in his eyes he doesn’t have to see the thing that reaches for his fucking heart, because the voice that stole the last bit of his soul wasn’t already bad enough.</p><p><b>“Alex.</b>”</p><p>He buries his head between his knees and sobs, shaking his head and whispering pleas and unused prayers. He wants it to stop, it has to stop, he cannot do this anymore. Not like this. Not alone.</p><p><b>“</b> <b> <em>Alex."</em> </b></p><p>Lisa wraps her arms around him as he chokes on his own breath, taking big, desperate gulps of air. It’s not enough. She’s trying but it’s not enough to block it, not without Henry there to roll his name on his tongue, bring it out with soft vowels and an affectionate lilt, even when he’s pissed at him<em> . </em></p><p>And without him there but stuck with a terrorizing reminder of him calling out his name in panic, in need, the only thing that hurts more than the fear is the thought that somewhere out there, Henry is still begging for him.</p><p>They spend the night like this, trying to out-stubborn the monsters and for the first time since the dawn of their end-days, Alex doesn’t sleep at all.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>. . . I know. Really. I know.</p><p>If you're reading both this and 'those markings' I am TRULY so sorry. The timing on the two stories was absolutely not done on purpose.</p><p>(In other news, I have a new fic out! "in violent symphonies" is a short sequel to in-white so do check it for complicated relationships, uncomfortable conversations, and that sweet Henry POV).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. the first time you need</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the window is empty again, Alex doesn’t move. When the sounds outside cease, he doesn’t dare close his eyes. It feels as though he’s holding his breath throughout the entire wretched night, stuck there in his chest, in constant anticipation for the ball to drop, as if his situation could possibly get any worse. Only when the first light of the sun paints the bathroom walls with pale light does he let himself breathe, letting his eyes flutter shut just for a moment.</p><p>Lisa must sense the change, because she stirs from where she fell asleep on his shoulder, jolting when she realizes where she is. “Alex?” she asks, voice hoarse and hesitant. He hums in response. “Are you okay? Did you sleep at all?”</p><p>“No,” he replies, his throat just as parched, and leaves it up to her to decide if it’s for the first question or the second or both. His mind is stuffed full of cotton, exhaustion and a still numbing sadness filling him up too much. But it might be better than allowing himself to feel things. That will come eventually. Maybe it’s better to delay it.</p><p>Lisa shifts against him, her hair tickling his nose as she moves to a better position that’s not entirely on top of him.</p><p>“Do you… We can stay here a while longer. Maybe you can get some rest.”</p><p>Alex opens his eyes, staring ahead without seeing. His chest deflates with a sigh and his words don’t match the lethargy that has taken over every limb. “I want to get out of here.”</p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>She gets up, finds the strength to push herself to her feet, and Alex admires how easily it comes to her, thought to action, when at the same time his own words sound detached to his ears and he can’t process them enough to assign movement to them. He’s grateful then, when she takes his hands in hers and pulls him upwards, slipping slightly on the grimy tiles.</p><p>Standing, forced or not, brings his mind into focus, but there’s still an intense amount of dread pooling in his stomach, fed by the idea of opening the door and seeing whatever waited for them outside. He tries to clear his head, make a list. He gets as far as Henry’s name, repeated in tenfold with the first thought, each one a blow too fast to process, and he can’t bear to get his thoughts in order anymore.</p><p>Together they push the cabinet away. Or they fumble with it until they manage to drop it to the floor with a resounding clang. It fills the space between them, marking a sharp contrast to the lack of sound from the other side of the door, the absence of a reaction to the cacophony.</p><p>Lisa sucks in a sharp breath and pushes the door open.</p><p>Alex’s heart drops down to his stomach.</p><p>The place is in shambles. Broken pieces of wood litter the space in front of the windows, most of them shattered now, shards of glass glimmering in the emerging sunlight like mocking little raindrops. Shelves have been toppled over, giving the place a distinctly post-earthquake image, except the only thing that has moved is Alex’s perception of a world already twisted beyond recognition. He didn’t think anything could shake him anymore.</p><p>The pool of slimy black goo in front of him proves him wrong. There’s no blood anywhere. Just dark tar, an oil spill in the middle of the store, tainting something that was never pure to begin with.</p><p>Lisa walks forward with careful steps, eyes on the lookout probably for either Frankie or Danny. Judging by the look of the place, Alex doesn’t think they need to worry much about them.</p><p>They don’t bother unblocking the door. They break off any leftover jagged edges of glass on the windows and make their way out from there. </p><p>Looking at the entrance from the outside in is a mistake and they both know it and they still fuck up at the same time..</p><p>A huge stain covers the door, red and black blotches mixed together in gory artistry. Lisa sinks to her knees, shaking violently as deep-rooted sobs wrack her frame. </p><p>Alex’s face contorts in pain, but he doesn’t cry. Even as the feels the pressure on the back of his eyes, he can’t grasp the motion, can’t give himself a release. </p><p>For once he’s glad there are never any bodies left behind.</p><p>He tenses, his spine stretching into a straight line, as he slowly turns his head towards the vast emptiness behind him, to husks of buildings hiding horrors behind their quiet exteriors. The air still smells like smoke. And he knows there’s still one… mark like this left to find. His mental state might not be able to handle it but he owes it to Henry. <em> At least I’ll know what happened to you </em>. It sounds like a cruel joke now and it bounds him in a promise he never made.</p><p>Alex takes a deep breath and walks toward the car that has been left untouched. He should be glad that he can still use the vehicle, but it tells him Henry didn’t even bother hiding in there and he can’t help thinking he might have made that choice to keep it safe for Alex’s sake.</p><p>He spreads his palm on the window, leaning on it for support as the full weight of that thought crashes into him.</p><p>“Alex? Are you okay?” Lisa runs to him as he heaves dry air, yet the hand on his shoulder hurts him more because it’s <em>not the one he wants. </em></p><p>“I can’t do this. I thought I could—no, I thought I <em>should</em>, but I can’t- I <em>can’t.</em>” He grasps at the front of his shirt as if he could somehow reach into his heart and make it stop hurting, the way you reflexively grab at a wound to relieve the pain. “I can’t get into this stupid car and drive away, knowing he was supposed to be in there with me! I was the one who dragged him with me. I was the one who wanted to go to fucking Texas. <em>I </em>was the one who insisted we spend the fucking night here when he clearly wanted to go! Why do I—Why do I get to be here? It was my mistake!”</p><p>She frowns, lips trembling, and tries to pull him into a hug. “Okay, but he shouldn’t have—”</p><p>“Don’t you <em>dare</em>!” he snaps, backing away from her. “<em>No. </em> I don’t want to hear it. That is the opposite of helping.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Lisa whispers and he can hear the layers to the words. She waits until he calms down, giving him the space he needs.</p><p>He tries to distract himself instead, turning his mind into his surroundings so he won’t dwell on anything for too long. There's plenty of time in countless, locked-up nights ahead of him for the misery.</p><p>When he’s sure he can speak again, Alex wipes at his tears and looks around. “Do you smell something burning?” he asks at last. “It was like this yesterday too.”</p><p>“Where is it coming from?” She walks slowly, following the scent. “Gas station?”</p><p>“I think if the gas station caught on fire, we would have noticed, even with everything going on,” Alex points out, though she’s not wrong about the direction. With nothing really left to do except make a decision, which is the last thing he’s capable of doing right now, they move towards the gas station, then continue to the pizza place behind it.</p><p>“Parking lot in the back?” Lisa says, scrunching her nose against the smell that is only getting stronger.</p><p>Lisa reaches the corner of the building first and freezes. In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have let her go first. “<em>Alex </em>…” she says, voice rising in panic.</p><p>“What is it? Is it a monster? That’s against the rules.”</p><p>She takes a step back, and shock has taken over her features, twisting her face into a grimace. “Alex, <em> get here. Now. </em>”</p><p>Blood rushes to his ears. Alex rounds the corner.</p><p>There’s a person slumped against the wall.</p><p>A person. Not a mark. Not a stain or a sign that someone must have suffered once. A person. <em> His </em>person.</p><p> Hope hits him like a punch to the chest, and it’s somehow more painful than defeat. Alex runs, falling to his knees in front of him. Henry’s eyes are closed but he’s breathing, fast, shallow breaths that move his chest in exaggerated motions. Red covers his left side, seeping through torn clothes, in splattered stains on his cheeks. But he’s <em>breathing</em>.</p><p>Alex sobs. “Hen? <em> Henry </em>?” Uncaring of the blood, he takes his face in his hands.</p><p> He doesn’t know what to do. He taps his cheeks, whispering, pleading, then runs his thumbs over the cheekbones, smearing lines of red. “Wake up. Please? Henry? Wake up, <em> look at me </em>.”</p><p>Henry coughs, wincing in his sleep.</p><p>Sleep. That’s what they’re calling it. Alex is going to start hyperventilating. </p><p>“Please, please, Henry, <em> please</em>. Open your eyes, let me see those stupid blues of yours, come on.”</p><p>Like some benevolent god, Henry listens to his prayers. His eyes flutter open, confused but alight with life. </p><p>Alex sinks further down to his knees. Relief floods through him, rising all the way to his throat until he sobs again, just once, an ugly, breathless sound that makes a semi-lucid Henry somehow take his hand in his. “Why?” Alex asks, using his other hand to push sweaty, bloodied tufts of blond hair away from his face. “Why is it always <em> you</em>?”</p><p>Henry smiles, despite the pained line still between his brows. He chuckles softly, flinching when it pulls at his wounds. “I’m glad—” he rasps. “I’m glad it’s me.”</p><p>“You’re a fucking moron, that’s what you are!” Alex cries, tears spilling over his grin.</p><p>“So glad I survived… for you to insult me.”</p><p>“Shut up, just shut right up.” He can’t stop crying. He can’t. He presses their foreheads together, still holding him close. “I thought. I thought you were…”</p><p>Henry squeezes his hand. “Not yet… I promised you I would try.”</p><p>“Don’t say ‘not yet’, you asshole,” Alex grumbles, pulling back but the pain he finds tells him exactly why Henry phrased it like this. “How bad…?”</p><p>“Been better,” Henry tries to laugh but it’s weak and it can’t overpower the strain in his expression. “Are you okay?”</p><p>Alex bites hard on his lips, blinking back a new set of tears. With shaking hands he pries off the torn pieces of fabric that was once Henry’s shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mutters when Henry hisses. Bile rises to the back of his throat when he sees the state of his shoulder and chest. Large gashes mark deep lines down his side, buried in dried and fresh blood alike, yet outlined in raised edges of torn skin.</p><p>Alex’s gaze meets with Henry’s, and his eyes are so, so sad, heavy with a truth Alex refuses to allow. He inhales, holding the breath for two seconds to fill him up with courage and calm he doesn’t really have, then exhales, and by the time he’s done, his teeth are clenched, his mind as clear as he can make it. “Okay. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Come on, let’s take you to the car.”</p><p>“Alex…”</p><p>“Lisa!” he calls and she rushes to their side from where she'd been cowering away. “Help me.”</p><p>They get him to his feet, and a piece of Alex’s soul breaks off at the low moan he gives. With Lisa’s help, they drape Henry’s right arm around Alex’s shoulders so he can lean his weight against him, with Alex’s hand around his side, careful not to touch his wounds. It’s a slow, painful process with Alex doing the walking for both of them, while Henry half-stumbles behind him, breathing heavily, his head loose on his shoulders.</p><p>Alex grits his teeth. “I got you,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. “I got you.”</p><p>Lisa runs ahead of them to the car. She throws the doors wide open and lowers the passenger side seat all the way down. Then she climbs on the driver’s side, sitting on her knees with her hands outstretched so she can help Alex ease Henry into a lying position.</p><p>Henry grunts but doesn’t otherwise complain, even though the short trip on his feet has left him too pale for Alex’s liking.</p><p>“How are you doing?”</p><p>“May I provide… an alternate suggestion?” he says, his face pinched in pain. “You’re not going to like it,” he adds when Alex agrees. He already doesn’t like any of this. How much worse could the suggestion be? “You could just… leave me.”</p><p>Oh. Oh, fuck that.</p><p>“Are you shitting me?”</p><p>“Alex…” Lisa warns.</p><p>“Are you for real? I—The whole night, I—What on earth makes you think I would leave you like this? To do <em>what</em>? Bleed out and die?”</p><p>Henry looks tortured. He takes Alex’s hand in his own, pulling him closer. “I just…”</p><p>“Listen to me! I can’t—” His voice catches but he pushes ahead. “I can’t do this without you, okay?” He frees one of his hands to cradle the nape of Henry’s neck, brushing his jaw. “I can’t. I couldn’t even imagine it. I would have <em> told </em> you that yesterday if you had just…” His gaze shifts across Henry’s face, taking in every detail, from his raised brows to those wide blue eyes, until it drifts all the way down to his parted lips and catches there.</p><p>Alex dives in for a kiss, locking his lips against Henry’s for a moment alone, enough to feel his neck arch towards him where they touch, to get the taste of blood and soot over parched lips. And despite the grimness, it feels right. It feels like something he should have done ages ago.</p><p>But when he pulls back, Henry’s eyes are confused, and for all the eagerness with which he responded, Alex swears he looks a little hurt.</p><p>“Henry?”</p><p>“I still think…” Henry says, trying to sit up. “<em>Shit</em>.” he curses in a sharp breath, jaw clenched against the pain.</p><p>“Hey, dummies.” Alex jumps when Lisa’s voice comes from behind him. He forgot she was there. “Can you solve your issues later and make sure he doesn’t die first?” She must have left at some point because she’s holding up bandages he would have probably noticed her carrying before.</p><p>Alex backs away as Lisa stands next to Henry and with more care than he thinks he could have mustered, she helps him get out of his shirt, tossing it on the ground. It’s not like it will ever be worn again. Henry squirms when she pours water over the wound, his hands clenching on the worn leather of the seat, and Alex takes about two minutes of it before he interferes.</p><p>“Wait. Let me do it.”</p><p>Lisa turns to Henry. Although he tenses, he doesn’t protest the switch. </p><p>Alex wets a clean shirt from his own things, despite Henry’s protests, and it’s then that he realizes what a horrible idea this was. He can’t get the look on his face out of his mind, and he feels like he’s overstepping some boundary by touching him like this. Ignoring the heat around his neck, he dabs the cloth on his skin, cleaning the blood as well as he can.</p><p>Henry is taking forced, heavy breaths through his nose, trying not to show how much pain he’s in. His back arches, his head falling back against the seat.</p><p>“Please, stay awake.”</p><p>“Mm-hmm.”</p><p>It’s hard to wrap up the wounds when he’s trying his best not to stare too long at them. His gut clenches every time he does, and a loud voice in the back of his head is all too eager to remind him how much of his fault this all is. He presses the gauze on the gashes, bringing it all the way over Henry’s right shoulder and around his ribs. It goes red a little too fast, so Alex rolls over another layer. “Too tight?”</p><p>“Isn’t it supposed to be?”</p><p>“I… honestly don’t have a fucking clue.” He looks to Lisa but she just shrugs, equally helpful. “I’m sorry. Can we-can we go? I want to get out of here.” Henry opens his mouth but Alex is having none of it. “If your next words even <em> imply </em> leaving you here I’m going to lose my shit.”</p><p>“Speaking of leaving people behind,” Lisa chuckles awkwardly before Henry can respond to that. “Do you mind if I come with you? Just for a little while.”</p><p>“I thought you were going to your aunt?”</p><p>“Well, I don’t know how to drive. So unless you want to drive me <em>there</em>, I’m happy with joining you until I can catch another ride.”</p><p>“That implies we’ll be seeing more new people, and you know what? I’m not here for that.” </p><p>Lisa shrugs with one shoulder, lips pursed. </p><p> Alex sighs. “Hop in.”</p><p>It’s a tighter fit than they’re used to. Lisa is squeezed on the left side of the backseat, with one of their backpacks in her arms, while her own is lodged between her feet and the front seat. Henry’s chair is still inclined, taking both the front and the right side of the backseat, though they managed to fit one more backpack at this feet. He refuses to complain, even if there’s no way he’s comfortable. Then again, with the pain on his side perhaps the cramped legs are the most minor of his discomforts right now.</p><p>The silence between them as they drive is too loud, and it doesn’t help Alex’s sleep-deprived state either. Henry fell asleep minutes after they started driving, or he’s too tired to keep his eyes open. Either way, he’s quiet, save for the smallest hiss or whimper when Alex runs over an uneven patch of road, like an ass, making the car and his wounds jolt. Lisa has taken to running her hands through his hair when that happens and Alex is only slightly annoyed that it’s her who gets to do that.</p><p>But if it’s comforting Henry, without bringing forth that lost, hurt look he gave Alex, then he can’t complain about it. Or rather, he <em>can </em>but he bites it all down; he has caused enough harm already.</p><p>They have only spent a couple of hours on the road when Lisa leans closer to the driver’s seat to speak to him,, whispering as to not disturb Henry. “Alex? We should stop.”</p><p>“It’s barely afternoon. We have time.”</p><p>“Yes, but you’re <em> swaying </em> on the road and I know you didn’t sleep.” Alex scoffs, even though now that she mentions it, he can’t remember switching lanes. “And he can’t be comfortable like this. He needs a proper bed.”</p><p>Alex steals a glance. Henry has not moved in the past few hours but his breaths are a lot more labored now. He meets Lisa’s gaze in the rear-view mirror and nods, then takes the first exit he can find.</p><p>It’s not his finest idea, as it’s not exactly the most inspired exit. He goes through a few stores and gas stations, which, he finds out with growing amounts of terror, are <em>not </em>empty. Lisa is right that they need a bed, however, so he keeps going, with a reluctant promise to deal with the silhouettes he saw inside cars and stores with boarded-up windows much later.</p><p>They end up doing a small circle but they manage to end up in a small cluster of houses, a tiny community his A in geography did not prepare him for. Large houses with huge driveways and even bigger lawns, kept as far away from each other as they can.</p><p>Alex parks in front of one, making sure its windows are not boarded up already by other occupants.</p><p>Henry stirs. “What’s going on…?”</p><p>“We’re stopping for today.”</p><p>“Why?” He pushes himself up, swearing again as it pulls at all the wrong places. </p><p>Alex places a hand on his back and helps him up this time before he reaches over to bring the seat back to position so he has somewhere to lean on.</p><p>“Because we’ve all had a shit night and we need to sleep it off. We can afford to waste a day. It’s fine.”</p><p>It takes them triple the amount of time they usually need to get settled inside, and that’s before they even attempt to barricade the place. He’s grateful that whichever family lived here not only fled the place (at least they didn’t find any discernible stains inside)  but also once opted for a spread-out single floor instead of adding levels. They find two rooms, a master bedroom and a kid’s room with a bunk, so Alex helps Henry onto the double bed. He looks uncomfortable the entire time, while Alex can’t figure out what on earth he did wrong and when.</p><p>Aside from leaving him outside to die, of course. Would Henry—sweet, brave, self-sacrificing Henry—be mad at him for that? <em> I’m glad it’s me. </em> Wasn’t that what he had said, uncaring of how worried the foolish statement made Alex feel?</p><p>“Do you mind if I check that?” he asks, nodding towards the bandages. They never gave him a new shirt and he can see the way the red has spread over the gauze.</p><p>Henry nods, averting his gaze. Okay, then.</p><p>After getting a fresh set of supplies from a first aid kit in the kitchen, he starts to unwrap the bandages, taking extra care to be as steady and gentle as he can. Henry is propped up on pillows against the headboard, his eyes glued to Alex’s hands, a faint red tinge to his cheeks. Well, at least he’s not pale. He leaves to bring a wet cloth and wash his hands in the adjoining bathroom before he once again cleans the tender skin around the wounds.</p><p>He lifts his gaze when he’s done. His breath catches when he finds Henry’s eyes staring into his, brows furrowed with a sadness he doesn’t understand. He risks a fleeting look to his lips, and when he looks up, Henry is looking away. Right.</p><p>Cheeks burning, Alex pats the area dry and, after washing his hands again, he can’t believe how much of a dumbass he was the first time, he unravels another roll of gauze and wraps it around him.</p><p>Henry is looking at him again.</p><p>Fuck it.</p><p>Alex leans forward, only to stop when Henry withdraws from him. The pained look finds him again, the one that has nothing to do with his injury.</p><p>His heart is pounding in his ears, fueled by his own hurt and confusion. It’s too loud for him to think over it, so when his next words leave him, they come out unchecked. “I don’t get you. I don’t. <em> You’re </em>the one who wanted—” Henry flinches, and Alex’s stomach clenches but he can’t tell if it’s pity or anger or-or— “Fuck this. I’ll leave you alone. Holler if you’re dying.”</p><p>He slams the door on the way out and as he hears nearby glasses tremble in his wake, he can feel the sound mirrored in his heart, scared yet too stubborn to break.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Look, he's alive, what do you want from me?</p><p>As always, please let me know what you thought down below and feel free to look for me on tumblr at @ saltfics too. PLUS we had an ask game over there lately, and there's a tidbit related to this fic hidden somewhere in there as well. ^^;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. the bad days, the good nights</h2></a>
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    <p> </p>
<p>Ten minutes under Lisa’s judgmental silence, the guilt starts to fester. She doesn’t even say anything. Instead, she gets up and heads to Henry’s room herself, without even asking him, where, judging by the sound, she takes it up upon herself to board up the windows to keep him safe. Like Alex should be doing. Like Alex should have done.</p>
<p>What did Alex do? He yelled at him. Fucking great. And sure, Alex was hurt, still is, but perhaps a wound to his pride does not excuse scolding a guy who had his side used as a scratching board by inhuman creatures that could have killed him. After a night spent convinced Henry would not be there in the morning, he <em> should </em>have just been grateful to find him alive. </p>
<p>Alex doesn’t understand. But maybe Henry is not in a place where he can explain himself right now.</p>
<p>He sinks deeper into the couch cushions, one hand draped over his eyes to block out the light, and he stays like this until he hears Lisa back in the living room, going through the adjoining kitchen’s cabinets with a fury.</p>
<p>“What are you looking for?”</p>
<p>“Where did you find the bandages and stuff before?” Lisa asks, still slamming cabinets, not even turning towards him. As if the question wasn’t enough to have his stomach doing backflips, her annoyance with him definitely does the trick.</p>
<p>He pushes himself off the couch and walks over to her. “Bottom right corner, there’s a first aid box. What’s wrong? What do you need?”</p>
<p>Lisa pauses, whirling around to face him (and proving he should have been happy when she didn’t). “<em>Painkillers</em>, Alex.”</p>
<p>Like a punch to the chest, the realization finds the spot where the guilt ate at his heart and hits right <em>there</em>, with enough force to make him want to hurl. Alex takes a shaky breath, his hand going to the counter, gripping its edges until his knuckles hurt. “Oh— <em> Shit</em>,” he groans, hanging his head. “Why… why didn’t he say anything?”</p>
<p>Lisa pushes him aside to reach the right cabinet. “I don’t know. Maybe because you told him to only <em> holler if he’s dying</em>?”</p>
<p>“He told you.”</p>
<p>Her head snaps his way, and the glare feeds his shame, clenches his heart a little harder. “No, Alex. I heard you from the living room because you were <em>yelling</em>. Look, I don’t know what you two dumbasses are fighting about,” she adds, crossing her hands in front of her chest and trying (without much success) to soften her tone. “But you can’t pull this kind of shit. I was next to you when you spent half the night crying for him.” Alex flinches. “I was there when you begged him to wake up this morning. So whatever he did to hurt you, wait until he’s actually safe and <em>then</em> yell at him. Because I don’t want to see you like that again, and under no circumstances is it okay to <em>torture him</em>.” She speaks her last few sentences in a hiss, hiding them from Henry in the other room.</p>
<p>“I didn’t mean to—”</p>
<p>“I know.” Lisa pulls the first aid kit out of the shelf, rummages through it for a second then pushes a bottle of pills into his hands. Her look wavers between kind and murderous, but Alex doesn’t need for her to speak to know what to do. He gives her a quick nod and heads for the room Henry’s in.</p>
<p>He knocks on the door, and when he doesn’t get a reply he pokes his head inside, too afraid to just walk in after the way he left things. With the windows blocked after Lisa’s handiwork, the only light inside is a lackluster white one from the bathroom, creeping in from a door left slightly ajar. She must have arranged it this way so he wouldn’t be in complete darkness yet still manage to rest.</p>
<p>Henry hasn’t moved from the bed. His breaths are heavy, labored with pain, and Alex feels like a dick all over again. The blanket only covers him up to his waist, and with his chest bare, at least Alex can see that the new bandages haven’t been soaked through a second time.</p>
<p>“Henry?” he calls in a whisper, careful to keep his voice gentle. “Hey.”</p>
<p>He takes a few steps inside, then a couple more, and somehow he finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed, glass of water and pill bottle already abandoned on the nightstand. He watches the shaky rise and fall of his chest, his eyes shifting from the wrapped-up wounds to his pinched expression. A part of him hates to wake him up, but he knows he’ll sleep better with some help.</p>
<p>Alex swallows back the guilt and his already wounded pride, and risks another rejection as he reaches out to touch his cheek.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?”</p>
<p>Alex jumps when Henry speaks, his eyes still closed.</p>
<p>“I—Shit, I’m sorry. I thought-I thought you were sleeping.”</p>
<p>Henry coughs, wincing at the sudden movement. He pries one eye open and when he attempts to shift in the bed to take a better look at Alex, something must pull because he groans, twisting his head on the pillow. “Alex… Is something wrong?”</p>
<p>“No—I-I brought you, uh, painkillers?” He pulls his hand back, feeling the heat rise up to his cheeks. “I was only trying to wake you up as painlessly as possible, I swear.” He freezes when Henry takes his hand, stopping him from withdrawing.</p>
<p>Henry looks up at him, his too-long fringe mussed in front of his eyes. A tired smile graces his lips despite the lines of pain between his brows.</p>
<p>“You need a haircut,” Alex blurts out.</p>
<p>“I would say the same, but it kind of suits you.”</p>
<p>His voice is too hoarse, and Alex reaches for the glass of water he’s brought with him. He thinks better of it, opting to help Henry sit up first. Henry’s fingers dig into Alex’s shoulder hard enough to make him flinch, but he refuses to complain. He arranges the pillows behind him and only when Henry nods twice at him that he’s fine does he finally reach for the painkillers at their side.</p>
<p>“Why… Why are you being so nice to me?” he asks, returning the semi-empty glass back to the nightstand.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“You said you do not understand me, and yet here you are being… well, like this, when not two hours ago you were yelling. I’m grateful, of course, I just…” Henry’s attention shifts to his lap where he’s twisting the edge of the blanket, picking at loose threads. “I want to know where we stand. Are you mad at me?”</p>
<p>A wave of indignation rises up within him, so Alex focuses his gaze on the strips of white gauze he applied himself. He looks at it until the feeling recedes. Until he knows what he needs to say. “I would like that too. But this isn’t the time.”</p>
<p>Henry looks up at him, his head cocked, his eyes tainted with such sadness it twists at the place where the guilt still stubbornly sticks on him.</p>
<p>“I have a suggestion.” He waits for him to nod before he continues. “It’s almost sunset. Nighttime is the time for truces, right? We never spend the night angry at each other. So, if you don’t currently hate me—which you could do, just, you know, tell me, I guess—do you want to put a pause into whatever the hell this is and spend the night together? I really, <em> really </em> don’t want to go through another night with those things without you by my side.”</p>
<p>Something crosses Henry’s face but it’s gone so fast, Alex doesn’t have time to decipher it. The idea that his gut reaction, however, doesn’t match his response leaves him unsettled, even as Henry attempts at a smile. “Of course,” Henry says, his voice pleased, <em> too </em>pleased, in a way Alex hasn’t heard since before their world tilted.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>Instead of a response, Henry scooches over to the side of the bed and lowers himself there this time, leaving plenty of space for him, should he want to use it.</p>
<p>“Right. I’m going to go get some food first, okay? We need to eat something.”</p>
<p>“Would you mind bringing one of the backpacks, too? I need to grab a few things.”</p>
<p>When he walks back to the kitchen, Lisa is already looking through the shelves in search of food. She gives him a cursory glance, turns back to her search, then snaps back to him once his presence sinks in. “What’s wrong?” she asks, one brow raised in a very strong implication that whatever happened is probably his fault. They spent a whole-ass traumatizing night together and somehow Henry won her over. Or Alex lost her by being an ass.</p>
<p>“Hell if I know. I think I handled it okay.” He doesn’t give her a chance to comment on it, adding, “Did you find anything edible?”</p>
<p>Lisa hums, opening the cabinets one by one as she lists out her loot. “Instant rice… packets of pasta… cookies, crackers… Cup ramen…”</p>
<p>“I thought this was a family home, why is it trying to recapture the college experience?”</p>
<p>“Divorce?” Sheesh. “I feel obligated to mention there are <em> some </em>healthier alternatives in here but I might abandon you and get the ramen, anyway.”</p>
<p>Alex chuckles. “What’s a little extra sodium in the face of the apocalypse? Go for it.”</p>
<p>He wonders if Henry has ever tried cheap instant noodles. Or if he’ll realize what he’s eating if he brings them to him in a fancy plate.</p>
<p>Fifteen minutes later, Alex slings the backpack over one shoulder, grabs the two cups (the packaging is part of the experience, he can’t deprive Henry of it) and heads back to what has been dubbed as Henry’s room. Lisa headed over to the bunk bed room a few minutes ago, so Alex needs to decide which one of the two he’s going to bother. Even if Henry agreed to his suggestion, there is something holding him back, some hurt he won’t admit to, and the idea of taking his stuff to sleep on the couch tempts him.</p>
<p>He finds Henry asleep on the bed, his face finally relaxed, his breathing even. Alex can’t hold back a sigh of relief that lasts for as long as it takes him to realize he needs to wake him up for real this time so he can eat. They’ve eaten nothing since morning and as trash as this food is, it’s better than an empty stomach. He can’t imagine they’ll be very hungry later when the monsters will be outside.</p>
<p>This time he doesn’t hesitate. After placing the cups on the nightstand again and dumping his bag on the floor, Alex sits down next to him, dipping the bed on the side. </p>
<p>Before he can overthink it, Alex tangles his fingers in Henry’s hair, stroking the blond locks away from his face until Henry stirs. It really has gotten too long. “Henry? Hey,” he coaxes. “Hey, I need you to wake up for me, okay? You’ll sleep better after, I promise.”</p>
<p>He regrets the decision when Henry squints up at him. The pain isn’t as pronounced on his expression anymore, but the exhaustion is impossible to hide, lingering in too dark marks under droopy eyes, in the listlessness that curls his spine as he tries to sit up after he waves off Alex’s help.</p>
<p>“What’s going on?” He asks, and his voice sounds worse, heavy with sleep. Alex feels like he’s living through the same scene, expect the previous version was apparently the wishful thinking edition.</p>
<p>Alex hands him one of the cups. “Food?” It comes out as a question and it makes Henry chuckle, his smile defying the situation to stay on his face.</p>
<p>“Classy.”</p>
<p>“And all these years you paid for professional chefs.”</p>
<p>“Clearly I should have just hired you.”</p>
<p>“You can’t afford me, sweetheart.”</p>
<p> They eat in silence for a little while and the awkwardness they’ve been tiptoeing around settles over them this time, heavier with each passing moment full of stolen glances and words abandoned before they were voiced. Alex finds it harder and harder to bite his tongue. He’s never been the silent type, and whatever it is that stands between them that he still <em>can’t fucking recognize</em>, it takes up too much space.</p>
<p>He needs to say <em>something</em>.</p>
<p>“Did you bring the backpack?”</p>
<p>Alex halts at Henry’s voice, blinking at him until his question sinks in. “Oh, right. Yeah.” He bends over to catch the closest strap and drag the bag closer to him. “What did you need?”</p>
<p>“There should be a box of matches in the, er, front <em> left </em> pocket, I believe?”</p>
<p>Alex raises a brow at him but reaches for the items, anyway. “What do you need those for?”</p>
<p>Henry’s not looking at him, and this detachment from his gaze makes it all the more obvious when his eyes lose focus, overtaken by something else. “It’s… I’ll feel better if I have them on me.” He blinks twice, shakes his head. “You should keep some as well. And maybe give the lighter in the other backpack to Lisa?”</p>
<p>“What’s this about? You’ve never—”</p>
<p>Understanding crashes onto him, like ice cold water down his spine, firing all his nerve endings. Henry still doesn’t look at him, but he has the most bitter, little smile twisting his expression. Nausea swirls in Alex’s stomach. “<em> You </em>lit the fire.” Henry doesn’t deny it. “How did you know?”</p>
<p>Henry's face contorts, and the wobbly smile he tries to gives only makes him look more pained. "I remember it now… What happened the first night. With-with Shaan."</p>
<p>Alex's eyes flick to the scar hidden by his fringe and Henry nods, pushing the hair back to reveal it.</p>
<p>"It was two nights ago that I realized. When you lit the fireplace, I knew. I remembered. When the-the thing came for me, Shaan was holding a candle—the electricity in the hotel was unstable, didn't I tell you? When it… scratched me, Shaan must have waved it in front of it as he pulled me backward. We weren't certain then what had made it withdraw, we didn't know the rules quite yet but that night when you lit the fire... they were quiet, weren't they?"</p>
<p>Alex’s throat closes up. He takes Henry's hand in his and squeezes, well aware that he's doing it for his own comfort. To keep him close, to feel his heartbeat in the pulse point where his fingers are curled around his wrist. He doesn't want to ask but he owes it to him to let him talk about this. He's already carrying so much, all by himself. "What did you do yesterday?"</p>
<p>"I knew I would never seal anything in time. All the buildings around were too big and too full of glass. I thought... Please don't get mad but I thought if I was going to die, I might as well test the theory."</p>
<p>"<em>Henry </em> ..." Alex chokes. <em> "Please..." </em> He doesn't know what he's asking of him. Maybe everything. He always asks too damn much of him. Please don’t talk like that and please don't think of yourself like this and please watch out for yourself better please don't leave me <em>please don’t leave me please don’t leave me</em>.</p>
<p>"So I lit a bonfire. It would have worked too. I settled next to it like it was a bloody campfire and though they lurked around me, watching... hissing... crying... they did not come near me. I wouldn't have even gotten hurt if it wasn't for..." </p>
<p>The color flees from his face and from the way his back arches Alex knows to reach for the trashcan under the desk and put it in front of him.</p>
<p>Henry retches into it, his whole frame trembling. His face is pulled with pain and midway through he has to place a hand on his side as the motions stretch his wounds.</p>
<p>Alex traces circles on his back. "<em>Hush... </em> It's okay. You're okay. You're safe now. They won't hurt you here. You're okay..."</p>
<p>"I went to help him," he sobs, the sound echoing with his head still hiding in the can. "I wanted to save him but he wouldn't follow me." Martin? "I had to watch as they... they... <em> Alex</em>."</p>
<p>Alex pulls the trashcan from his hands to put it aside. He gathers Henry into his arms, gently guiding his head to hide on the crook of his neck instead. He shushes him and holds him as Henry cries, playing with his hair, squeezing tighter every time the sobbing comes out too raw.</p>
<p>Lisa peeks in at some point. She doesn’t say a word, just looks at Alex for any sign or instruction.</p>
<p>Alex runs his hand up and down Henry’s arm, sharing some warmth as he starts to calm down. He looks above him towards the door. “Lisa, can you find some candles?” Her brows shoot up and he scrambles to add, “I’ll explain later, just gather as many as you can find, get some here and keep some in your room, light them up.”</p>
<p>They each get two sets of three, one to keep on now, and one to replace it after too much time passes with it burning. Alex puts one next to them and two close to the window. They might not make any difference at all, but it feels safer, even as a placebo. It gives him hope to look at the small fluttering flame that will keep them company throughout the night.</p>
<p>They make themselves comfortable next to each other on the bed. Alex still has one arm around Henry’s shoulders, perched a bit higher so Henry rests his head against his shoulder. </p>
<p>When the first <em>bang </em>comes from the outside, Alex jumps, clinging to Henry on instinct until he hisses in pain.</p>
<p>“Fuck, <em> fuck. </em>I’m sorry. Wrong side,” he scrambles to apologize, withdrawing.</p>
<p>Henry grabs the front of his shirt, keeping him there. “It’s fine…” he says as he breathes through the sudden spike of pain. “I’m okay, it wasn’t your fault.” He looks up at Alex, his eyes softening at the sight. “Are you scared?”</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t <em> like </em> it.”</p>
<p><em> Bang</em>. He flinches forward, curling his fingers into a fist mid-air in the space between them where he tried to reach for him again. Henry has also tensed at the consecutive sounds but he’s handling it much better than Alex.</p>
<p>“How are you not scared? After really… uh, seeing those things…” <em> hissing… crying… </em> “I figured you’d be terrified. What is this? Exposure therapy?”</p>
<p>He huffs, taking Alex’s hand that’s still hovering and, intertwined with his own, he takes them both down on his lap where his gaze has fallen. “I am scared of them. But… I don’t know… I’m not <em> alone </em>,” he says with a quick shrug that doesn’t do justice to how deep the words dig into Alex’s heart. “And… well, I know they’re not invincible. I know now that even if, by some stroke of terrible luck, they come in here, I can stop them before they hurt y-anyone.”</p>
<p>“Because they’re scared of fire?”</p>
<p>He coughs an awkward, choked sound that fails to cover his words. “Because I chucked a lit lighter at one and it died.”</p>
<p>“You <em> what</em>?” Alex yells, in time with a crash on the ceiling, and they both shut the fuck up when they hear Lisa scream at them from the next room.</p>
<p>“Alex, don’t <em> fucking </em>make it worse!”</p>
<p>Henry bites on his lip, looking too guilty considering Alex is the one she’s blaming.</p>
<p>“You <em>what</em>?” he says again, in a hissed whisper.</p>
<p>“I had to get it off of me?”</p>
<p>“You—who <em> are </em> you?”</p>
<p>And Henry laughs. The sound rings out in their bizarre atmosphere, too soft, too pretty against the howling outside, the crashes that rattle the windows and the doors. The scarce warm light paints him in mellow tones; after all the time they’ve spent together, Alex doesn’t notice the long shadows drawn from the darkness around them. He sees instead, the splashes of light on his cheekbones, the fiery highlights to his hair. He sees the way his pupils have grown in the darkness, and the way the flames are reflected in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Henry,” Alex says, his throat dry, his tone too somber. “Tell me why you’re mad at me.”</p>
<p>The laughter drains from his face. Alex grieves for its loss but he needs to know, hoping that a few minutes of discomfort will spare them from so much pain later. </p>
<p>“I’m not—”</p>
<p>“Then tell me why you kissed me, only to reject me every time I try to do the same.”</p>
<p>“Alex, you don’t have to…” His eyes widen and he trails off, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“I don’t have to <em>what</em>? What do you think is happening here?”</p>
<p>Henry gapes, stammers a few misplaced I’s and you’s but he doesn’t commit to a response. Alex fights down the irritation, burying it under layers upon layers of fake smiles, a behavior he hasn’t needed to use with Henry for months now. He thought they were past this. He thought they were so much more. He- He just wanted to—</p>
<p>“It’s fine. We don’t need to talk about it,” he forces out through clenched teeth, the smile he’s got plastered hurting his cheeks, even if it’s small so it can be convincing. “It’s fine, Hen,” he adds when Henry tries to protest, or apologize, or whatever else he thinks he needs to do that’s not telling the truth.</p>
<p>As Alex turns away from him, Henry places a hand on his cheek, holding him there. Their eyes meet, and he gets lost in rings of icy blue, in the depth of his gaze. He forgets how to <em>breathe</em>. Luckily for him, Henry is willing to share his own. Their lips find each other in the chaos of the night and when something <em>crashes </em>against the nearest window, for once it sounds like fireworks.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>.... why is this fic this long. We still have quite a bit.</p>
<p>Anyhoo, I hope you liked it! I'm going to keep this brief and just quickly mention that 'in violent symphonies' has officially been completed and ALSO I may have something new for y'all soon.</p>
<p>Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. A lot of you guessed some of the new information, of course, and it was so much fun to see people discussing theories in the comments XD </p>
<p>As always, find me on tumblr @ saltfics !!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. the one thing you leave behind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Look, I know you need 2-3 days for this to happen but I couldn't fit that into my timeline so I elected to ignore it. XD Perks of having a monster-made injury?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex wakes up well-rested for the first time in a long while. The subtle light of dawn barely seeps in through the slits of the boarded-up windows, painting everything a peaceful, faded grey. For one stupid moment he thinks that maybe, even in this weird new reality they’re stuck with, things could turn out okay. He stretches on the bed, reaching out to find where Henry moved away during the night. His hands find his waist and he pulls him closer against him, careful not to mess with his bad side. But his fingers still brush against the bandages, and in the second it takes for Henry to hiss from the sting, Alex notices how hot the skin is to the touch.</p><p>“Hen?” he whispers, quiet not to break the softness of the morning. “Hey. Are you feeling okay?”</p><p>Henry moans in response, a weak, muttered sound, gentle as an afterthought.</p><p>Alex sits up, awake all of the sudden, and he pushes Henry’s too long blond hair away from his face to get a better look at him. His forehead burns too hot, glistening with sweat, his cheeks flushed a scary red. Henry’s breaths are shallow and quick as he blinks up at him, his eyes hazy but fond to match his wobbly smile.</p><p>“Fuck,” Alex swears under his breath, his stomach churning with the first hints of fear.</p><p>“Not quite yet, I’m afraid,” Henry jokes, like a bastard, and Alex wants to fight everything that hurt him but at this point, with the monster dead, his choices are either himself or some asshole bacteria that must have snuck in the wound.</p><p>“Seriously, how are you feeling?”</p><p>Henry’s nose scrunches up as if he just remembered he’s supposed to be in pain because Alex told him so. “Truly?” Alex nods. “Like you put me through the meat grinder then left me to slowly cook into a nice roast.”</p><p>"... Okay, so I shouldn't have asked.”</p><p>“You can’t say I don’t keep things interesting.”</p><p>“I would never say that.”</p><p>Henry raises a brow.</p><p>“Anymore,” Alex concedes. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to come up with a plan, except his first-aid training didn't include infected wounds so the extent of his knowledge is not exactly vast. “Okay, I’m going to look for some antibiotics in the medicine cabinet, all right? I’ll be back in a second.”</p><p>Henry nods. The gesture comes across too half-hearted, and while he didn’t expect him to rejoice over the statement, Alex doesn’t like the way his tiredness resembles defeat. “I mean it. I’ll fight the hungry wolves for you if I don’t find any, I promise.” His sources aren't that great either.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“The Day After Tomorrow?”</p><p>“Alex, I thought I was supposed to be the delirious one.”</p><p>“It’s a <em>movie</em>—you know what? Never mind.”</p><p>He squeezes his shoulder once for comfort before he leaves, not sure if they’re quite at the forehead kiss stage yet even if that’s his first instinct. Alex slips out of bed and heads to the kitchen.</p><p>Lisa is already there, cooking breakfast. She’s broken open the front door to let some light and air in. Her hair is tied up in a lazy bun and she too looks surprisingly well-rested.</p><p>“Morning, sunshine,” she grins at him. “This fridge is so weirdly stocked, I am <em>living.</em>”</p><p>“Morning to you too. You’re in a good mood.”</p><p>“I am. It does wonders to be away from Frankie and Danny.” She pouts then, waving her spatula around as she talks. "Is it horrible of me to say that since they’re dead now?”</p><p>Alex doesn’t blink. “Nope.”</p><p>“Cool.”</p><p>He makes his way over to the kitchen cabinets, nudging her out of the way. “Move over,” he says, kneeling down to reach the one with all the medical supplies. He studies the different shapes and labels, taking a variety of bottles and pillboxes out to make room.</p><p>“Something wrong?” Lisa asks, leaning over to look.</p><p>“I think so." He tosses the last box onto the little pile he’s created. "Shit, okay, I have no idea what I’m looking for.”</p><p>Lisa squats down next to him. “What’s going on?”</p><p>“Henry has a fever. I didn’t check the wound but…”</p><p>“It’s probably infected?” Alex nods. “<em>Shit</em>. You need a strong antibiotic for that. Prescription stuff. I don’t know if you’d find it in a household.”</p><p>“Pharmacy then?” he groans. “You think there’ll be anything left in the middle of back-end nowhere that we are?”</p><p>Her face falls, her eyes slipping from his. “I don’t know…”</p><p>Alex chews on his lip, refusing to voice his next question. <em>What happens if we don</em><em>’t find anything? What do I do?  </em>Instead, he pushes himself to his feet, trying to ignore the coil of anxiety that is tightening around his chest. If he ignores it, maybe it will go away. He can’t afford to feel bad right now. “All right. Time to go hunting, I guess.”</p><p>Lisa grabs his arm. “I’ll go,” she says. Her gaze is boring into him, intense and heavy with something he doesn’t understand. “You finish up here. Keep an eye on him. I’ll go check every pharmacy in the area. Okay?”</p><p>“Okay… You good?”</p><p>“Sure." She gives a smile that would never convince anyone but she grabs her coat and heads out the door before Alex can decide if he cares enough to protest when he would rather stay with Henry anyway.</p><p>He finishes up their breakfast and practices his waitressing skills by trying to balance two full plates, two mugs and two glasses in one go. He almost makes it too, until he reaches the door and realizes he has no way of opening it. His flexibility doesn’t quite support kicking it, at least not without losing his grip on everything else in the process. He goes back to find a stupid tray.</p><p>Before he can even attempt to sort through the rest of the shelves, he hears slow, shuffling steps coming his way. Alex’s stomach shoots all the way up his throat, does a spectacular little backflip and settles back in its place, twisted and pressed with enough concern to be mistaken for anger.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be up,” Alex says, pushing a chair towards Henry, who has turned out to be enough of a complete fucking idiot to try joining him in the kitchen. “Sit your ass down—what the <em>hell</em>, Henry?”</p><p>He looks worse in the light they’ve let in, all hollowed out with exhaustion, sickly pale with bright red cheeks; it would be comical if it wasn’t so worrying. His movements are short and drawn with tension as he makes his way over to Alex like he’s glitching, like his body can’t figure out how to function anymore, and with every minuscule flinch evident solely in his eyes, Alex’s heart clenches in response.</p><p>“It was either coming here or trying to pry open one of the windows. I figured this had less chance of tearing at the wound.” With a surprising amount of care for someone who would <em>get up</em> <em>with</em> <em>those wounds</em>, Henry pushes himself onto the chair, breathing with purpose through his nose to control his pain.</p><p>“<em>Or</em> you could have waited for me to return. Hell, you could have hollered.”</p><p>“I don’t need you to baby me. It’s fine.”</p><p>“Yeah, if you’re trying to die.” Henry rolls his eyes at him. “No, screw that. What are you trying to pull?”</p><p>“Nothing! I just wanted some air.”</p><p>“Well, tough. I need you alive.”</p><p>“Oh, well, in <em>t</em><em>hat</em> case…”</p><p>“No, <em>shut up. </em>Why do you keep doing this? Do you-” His throat dries out. He forces the words out anyway. A part of him knew that at least to a point Henry was evading the night before. But he had been so blissed out in that kiss that he let him—he <em>wanted </em>to let him. “Do you want to die? Is that it? Did you—Fuck, Henry, did you stay out on purpose?”</p><p>“What? No, of course not!”</p><p>“Are you sure? Because it seems to me—”</p><p>“Alex, if I wanted to die, do you truly believe I would have fought them off when they got me?”</p><p>Alex clamps his mouth shut. Something in the statement makes him physically recoil and he stands there, not two feet away from Henry, staring at him with eyes beginning to sting and his words lost.</p><p>Henry’s own gaze softens at the sight, and he sighs, reaching out towards him. “Alex…”</p><p>Alex shudders at the tenderness around his name. His accent becomes entangled with each syllable and brings forth a new sound, one he could keep close every time <em>they</em> turned the word vile and mocking. And he wonders why on earth he keeps arguing with Henry, and he knows just as well that that is precisely why. Because he has felt his absence once and though the loss was removed with his return, it tore something on the way out, the crisscrossed cuts still bleeding and bound to scar.</p><p>“Come here,” Henry says, so he does, sliding himself between Henry's knees and letting him pull him into a hug. He still smells like blood and grime. Alex wouldn’t dream of moving away. He buries his face in the crook of his shoulder while Henry cups the nape of his neck, stroking the edge of his hairline with his thumb. “I promised you I would stay, didn’t I? And I’m still here. I’ll promise you again if you need me to. I’m staying with you for as long as you’ll have me.”</p><p>He feels Henry’s grip on him twitch at the words and he pulls back with a frown to look at him. “Wait, what do you mean?”</p><p>Henry blinks up at him. “What?”</p><p>“What did you mean by ‘as long as you’ll have me'?” He tries to take another step back but Henry’s hold on him tightens and he can’t bring himself to break it.</p><p>“I- I meant what I said. I know we’re traveling together right now, of course. Still, we are going to reach our destination eventually and… if you’d… well.” He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I wouldn’t force it over you.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t <em>have</em> to.”</p><p>“Alex—”</p><p>“How long have you been holding on to that one?” He swallows down all the indignation, refusing to start any more yelling. And in the process, he realizes what he asked. How <em>long</em> has Henry thought of him, of <em>them</em> like this? “Sweetheart,” he says, watching Henry's eyes widen. He stands by it. “What do you think will happen once we reach Texas?”</p><p>Henry's face contorts, hurt and sadness flashing for a second before he smothers the emotion, leaving just the crease of a frown between his brows. “I…”</p><p>He gets interrupted by a string of curses (or a string of one curse—honestly, Alex isn’t certain <em>what</em> she’s saying but it sounds like a ceaseless train of fuckmefuckmefuckmefuck<em>me</em>) and a panting, sweaty Lisa running inside like she’s being chased. Alex chokes out a laugh until she slams the door shut behind her, then places herself in front of it for good measure.</p><p>“Hi, boys. I think I fucked up. Morning, Henry,” she adds, her expression softening into a smile. Sure. “Okay, so if you guys were wanted you should have actually told me.”</p><p>“Wanted?” asks Henry.</p><p>“Nobody’s trying to, like, hunt you down and kill you?”</p><p>Alex narrows his eyes at her. “Not that I know of, but I’m guessing you found a candidate for the job?”</p><p>Lisa rubs a hand over her face, still breathing hard from the run. “Okay, so I went to find the medicine and I asked around. For a town with maybe ten people, most of those ten people actually stayed here, so it’s fairly functional. But they said a new person got the last of the antibiotics and none of the other assholes wanted to share because—” she lifts her fingers for full-on air-quotes—“<em>we’re</em> the 'trespassers’. So I went to find the person who was still in town. And sharing <em>was </em>an option if I needed it and I explained I was traveling with two guys and one of them had gotten hurt and I think—I <em>think</em> something about that rung some bell or another because suddenly he got <em>really </em>interested in coming to check you out and… yeah. I ran here to give you a fair warning.”</p><p>Alex looks over from her to Henry and back to the door from where the mystery murderer will ax them down. “Yes, because clearly we’re in a position to run.”</p><p>“Say your goodbyes?”</p><p>“<em>Wow,</em> Lisa.”</p><p>Three curt knocks on the door freeze them all in place.</p><p>Lisa turns to him for instructions like Alex has ever shown he knows what he’s doing.</p><p>Henry slips a hand in his, lacing their fingers and squeezing. Alex begins to rub crescents with his thumb as he nods at Lisa to move away from the entrance.</p><p>She grips the handle with enough strength to turn her knuckles pale and pulls the door open.</p><p>Henry flinches forward, and if Alex wasn’t holding him already he might have fallen to the floor. But Alex holds him back when he falters, and a second pair of strong arms grab his shoulders to keep him upright after their owner crossed the distance between them in a second to get to him in time.</p><p>“Steady there. You’re all right, Sir. You’re going to be just fine.”</p><p>Broken sobbing rattles Henry’s entire frame. A hand flies to his mouth even if it could never mask the sound, while the other reaches out, clenching around the fabric of his suit and pulling him close.</p><p>Alex’s own eyes fill with tears and he doesn’t bother trying to stop them. They spill down his cheeks, a salty taste reaching his mouth as they slip into his grin.</p><p>“Shaan, have I ever told you how fucking cool you are?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Surprise?</p><p>This was shorter than the rest but my routine got demolished then rebuilt from scratch so it was either a short chapter or an update around next year ^^; I hope it was still worth a read and YES, Henry and Alex will finally make a legitimate attempt at communicating /next/ chapter. </p><p>Thanks so much for sticking with this story. If you're still here, please remember to leave a short comment~ Thank you !!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. taken by the stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex wants to go back in time and whack past-him upside the head, once for every time he let Henry believe that Shaan could be dead. Most reasonable explanation or not, it seems so dumb now as he watches the man in the flesh, leaning down in front of Henry, his hands on his shoulders, steady as ever. He has the smallest of smiles on his face but the fondness in it is evident, in the soft turn of his eyebrows, the gentle strength of his touch.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I’m <em>so sorry</em>,” Henry gasps, for the twentieth time in the past ten minutes but nobody has the heart to stop him. “I never should have let you go. I’m so glad you’re okay.”</p><p>“I did not leave you much of a choice in the matter, Sir. I was concerned, however, when I returned and you weren’t there.” He shifts his gaze towards Alex, appraising him with mild curiosity. “Mr. Claremont-Diaz, what an odd surprise.”</p><p>“Do I need to remind y’all again that <em>you</em><em>’re</em> the ones in the wrong country?”</p><p>Henry chuckles through his tears, wincing when it rattles his side.</p><p>Shaan frowns at the motion. He places a hand on Henry’s face and turns it from side to side, examining the fresh cuts. He must feel the heat on his skin, for he places the outside of his palm on Henry’s forehead, then the side of his cheek. “Are you all right? Are you ill?” He looks back towards Lisa where she’s still standing at the door, confused but willing to give them their space. “Is this why you wanted the antibiotics?”</p><p>“I’m—”</p><p>“I think his wound got infected,” Alex interrupts before Henry can lie about it. “I’m sorry, it’s probably my fault. I don’t really know how to do these things.” He never voiced that particular worry out loud before but now that it’s out there, the beginnings of guilt curl around his stomach, leaving him light-headed with worry.</p><p>“Alex…”</p><p>“It’s true. I really am sorry, Hen.”</p><p>Shaan ignores both his self-pity and Henry’s protests. “You’re wounded?” With movements ever so careful, he traces down the length of Henry’s frame, halting when he reaches the slight bulge of the bandage. “Please allow me.”</p><p>Henry purses his lips but nods. Shaan slowly unbuttons Henry’s shirt and peels back at the bandages that need changing anyway. He doesn’t say anything, yet Alex can see the way his jaw tenses slightly, the harder edge to his eyes that matches the guarded tone of his voice when he speaks again. “What happened to you?”</p><p>“I… I had an unfortunate run-in.” Shaan’s eyes travel between the three of them, and Alex understands what he must be thinking. How is Henry the only one injured? Henry must catch up as well, for he adds, “I-I was stupid. I left and was too late coming back. They had to close up without me.”</p><p>Frustration heats up the blood rushing through him at this retelling of the worst night of Alex’s life. This bare-boned, self-blaming twist on the truth, that’s just accurate enough to make protesting it difficult.</p><p>Lisa beats him to it. “That’s not what you actually think happened, do you?” She shoots Alex a quick look. “We wanted to keep the doors open, we still had time. Those assholes just wouldn’t open them for any reason. Hell, Alex—”</p><p>“<em>Lisa—</em>” he warns.</p><p>“—asked if they would let <em>him</em> out since they wouldn’t allow you in. It wasn’t your fault.”</p><p>Alex swallows hard when Henry turns to him, a gaping look of horror on his face. “Yeah, so um…” he laughs, the sound awkward and grating to his ears. “If we could get you those antibiotics so you don’t die, that’d be mighty neat, you know?”</p><p>Perhaps to spare him of the awkward conversation, or most likely because his charge’s health is more important than said charge’s weird newfound relationship, Shaan ignores the last part of the conversation, and with the utmost care, he guides Henry first to his feet, then back to the bedroom. “Come on, Sir. We need to get those cleaned and freshly bandaged.”</p><p>With his shirt still unbuttoned, when Henry stretches to get up, Alex catches a glimpse of the long gashes down his side, angry red marks that have flared from the infection,</p><p>Lisa strolls up to him once they close the door behind them. “So he wasn’t trying to kill you.”</p><p>Alex snorts. “Oh, no, of course he is. What do you think is happening to Henry right now?” He laughs when she shoves him over, cursing herself for worrying over their two dumbasses. She’s not wrong. “He was Henry’s equerry. <em>Is</em> Henry’s equerry? The world’s so fucked up, not sure how much it matters anymore.”</p><p>“Well, he’s clearly still loyal to him if he went out of his way to find you.”</p><p>His eyes travel to the closed door and he can’t stop himself from thinking of their own people.</p><p>Zahra was basically part of the family. She once yelled at a school teacher for him once his mom couldn’t make it. And Alex may have tortured her (not on purpose) every damn day but he knew that she was always just watching out for them.</p><p>Amy and Cass hadn’t been with them for that long, but they were his absolute favorites. They treated him like a person instead of just the president’s son, or just a body they needed to keep safe.</p><p>Are they with his family still? Did they go back to their own? Are they… did they remain bound by their jobs through tragedy like Shaan did, and did someone ask them to? His mom would have absolutely told them to go home but then again, as Alex and Henry quickly realized, going home wasn’t easy and based on the amount of torn and blackened, crushed-can cars they’ve found on their way, not everyone managed to finish their journey. It’s not even certain<em> they </em>will.</p><p>Alex shudders at the last thought, shaking the image of that flaring red that comes with it.</p><p>“You good?” Lisa asks, bumping his shoulder with hers. “Listen, Alex, I—”</p><p>She stops when the door opens.</p><p>Shaan comes out with the slightest frown on his face. “Mr. Claremont-Diaz, may I have a word?”</p><p>Lisa shakes her head at whatever she wanted to say and sends him off, focusing instead on that long-abandoned, cold breakfast.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” asks Alex as he approaches. “Is he okay?”</p><p>Shaan exhales deeply through his nose, taking a quick look at the closed door behind him as if to check. “Those wounds are definitely infected and his fever is spiking but we should have caught it in time. He should be fine if we keep an eye on the situation.”</p><p>Alex nods, his throat too dry to bother with a better reply.</p><p>“I was hoping you could perhaps shed some light on what occurred after you left the hotel. Would you care to catch me up?”</p><p>Alex hesitates, sneaking a glance at the door as well. “Oh. Well, um…” He should tell him. But knowing Henry is sick gives him the overwhelming urge to check on him and the conversation they left unfinished earlier is still lingering in the back of his mind, vying for his attention. “The thing is,” he says, looking back towards where Lisa is pretending not to stare at them, “we haven’t eaten since last night and though our breakfast is probably cold and disgusting by now, I should, like, get some food in him. Right?”</p><p>Though Shaan doesn’t seem to buy his excuse, he doesn’t protest his reluctance.</p><p>“Why don’t you ask Lisa, and I’ll catch you up on anything she doesn’t know later?”</p><p>After retrieving their plates from the kitchen, Alex sneaks into the bedroom, and while cold scrambled tofu is not exactly his ideal breakfast food, it looks just enough like scrambled eggs to trick himself into thinking he wants it anyway. Or maybe he’s just that hungry.</p><p>Henry has been forced under the covers again, probably at Shaan’s insistence. His shirt is now fully off, and Alex can see the crisp white of the bandages creep from under a blanket that stops just short of his chest. His hair is tousled, his eyes closed. Alex wants to kiss him awake, to watch the daylight catch the blue of his eyes as he smiles at him with sleep still softening his gaze. But he knows he’ll feel the heat radiating from Henry’s skin if he does and his stomach is already tied up in knots without it.</p><p>Being as quiet as he can, he places the plates on the nightstand and reaches out to push Henry’s hair back, letting his thumb trace down his cheek to the tip of his lips. He feels those same lips shape into a smile under his touch.</p><p>“Hey,” Henry says, prying one eye open before the other.</p><p>“Did I wake you? You should eat something before you go back to sleep.”</p><p>He groans, shifting in his spot until he flinches, probably after pulling something. “I shouldn’t sleep again anyway.”</p><p>“You’re sick, Hen.” Alex rolls his eyes, passing one of the plates to him with a set of cutlery. “Sick <em>and </em>injured, which sucks but it also gives you the ultimate get-out-of-work-free card. Please just sit your ass down for the next few days.”</p><p>“Would <em>you</em> have ‘<em>sat your ass down</em>’ if I asked you to?”</p><p>“Would you <em>not</em> have wanted me to?” Alex smirks at his exasperated look. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m sure I can keep you entertained.”</p><p>Henry blushes, a fond smile on his face. “Can’t wait.”</p><p>They eat in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence. Henry keeps stealing glances at him and Alex smiles every time. He can’t believe he ever thought he hated him, when all he wishes for now is to stay close to him. He wants Henry to recover. He wants them to get to Texas. And whatever this new normal has in store for them, whatever new plan they’ll have to make once they finish with this one, he wants to go through it with Henry by his side. It’s staggering, when he thinks about it, how fast they went from nothing to something. Something like this. Bonded by trauma. Who would have thought?</p><p>“You seem to be thinking hard,” Henry says. He sets his plate back on the nightstand, more than half of the food still on it. Alex looks from it and back to him, narrowing his eyes at the slight glow of sweat on his forehead.</p><p>Alex leans forward, using his free hand to push Henry’s fringe away where it has started to mat with moisture. “You’re not feeling well, are you?” He frowns at the heat he feels under the touch.</p><p>“Just… uncomfortable.” Henry huffs a deep breath, his face pinched.</p><p>“Lie down,” Alex sighs, gathering the dishes out of the way. “I’ll get you something cool for your head.”</p><p>For once, Henry doesn’t complain. Alex returns moments later with a wet cloth from the bathroom and carefully places it on his forehead. Henry shivers at the sensation, before he opens his eyes to look at him, his gaze full of gratitude. “Thank you, love.” His eyes widen when he realizes what he said but Alex just dives in to peck him on the lips. The smile he gets in return twists at his heart in the most pleasant of pains.</p><p>Henry laces their fingers together and gives him a gentle tug. “Lie down with me.”</p><p>“Yes, your Highness.”</p><p>“Oh, sod off.”</p><p>“Giving me mixed signals here, sire.”</p><p>Alex slips under the covers with him and pulls him against his side, ignoring how much heat Henry’s body is radiating. He feels him relax in his arms, feels blond tufts tickle at his skin as the first  waves of sleep lure him, and his head turns towards Alex as if on instinct. Alex presses a kiss to their still intertwined hands, wondering if it’s too late to try not to get attached. As if he still has a choice in the matter.</p><p>“Henry?” he whispers, not sure if he’s already fallen asleep. Henry hums. “I’m sorry I was such a dick to you about Shaan being alive. You were right. And I’m glad you were too.”</p><p>Henry opens one eye, the other too squished against the pillow to be much use. “Don’t be absurd. Anyone would have thought the same thing. I don’t blame you for it.”</p><p>“Yeah, but—”</p><p>“<em>Alex</em>.” It’s not the authority in his tone that quiets him down. It’s the hand that has reached for his cheek, and the way Henry holds him like he matters. Alex turns his head just enough to kiss the inside of his palm, and he’s in the perfect position to see Henry’s eyes fall closed in appreciation, the worry smoothing from his features.</p><p>“For what it’s worth,” Henry sighs. “I’m sorry too. For running. We wouldn’t be in this position if I hadn’t… if I just—”</p><p>“Hey, as rude as it was for you to bolt off the face of the planet after kissing me”—Henry snorts— “it was Frankie’s fault, not yours, you were left outside. And it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t want it to matter anymore. I’m just glad you’re alive.”</p><p>“Me too. And… I know you were annoyed with me for pushing you away after but…”</p><p>Henry hesitates, so Alex takes some weight off their conversation, clearing a path for him to continue. “Yeah, what was up with that?” he says with an encouraging smile. He takes the hand that’s still on him with his own and plays with Henry’s fingers as he talks. “I mean, you seem pretty pleased with our arrangement now.”</p><p>Henry huffs. “Yes, well. The truth is…” He frowns, his body tensing, and he shifts in place, turning slightly more away from him to face the ceiling. Alex tries not to be hurt from the loss. “I… In any other circumstance, I would be perfectly content with taking as much or as little as you were willing to give me.”</p><p>“Henry…”</p><p>“Let me finish.” His frown goes deeper, into harsh lines marring his face. “But here? Like this? When you… found me the next day, you said you didn’t know how to do this without me, and I thought-I thought maybe it was out of necessity.” Alex wants to protest the notion but he waits for Henry to finish, all the while keeping his eyes glued to the thin film of sweat that has spread to his cheeks and neck. “I don’t have anywhere else to go anymore. And I… I enjoy being your friend if that’s what you want but going further… knowing that it’ll be over once you find the people you actually want to rely on… I just couldn’t do that. Not when things are like this.”</p><p>Alex picks up the cloth and runs it down the sides of Henry’s face, wiping away some of the moisture. He needs to refresh it but not before he can drag this mindset out of him. His heart aches for the conflict he hears in his voice, and the idea that Henry genuinely thought he would have left him alone after they arrived only serves to pour salt over the open wound. “Henry. I wouldn’t do that. Don’t you know that?”</p><p>“Two months ago you hated me. It might be unfair to say but I wasn’t entirely convinced you were not simply that desperate for company.”</p><p>“It’s not like that. And hey, it’s not like we could be friends with benefits what with you getting yourself injured.”</p><p>Henry laughs, a little breathless, and he flinches hard, his eyes remaining scrunched shut. “So you weren’t…”</p><p>“Weren’t what?” he prompts when Henry doesn’t continue, even when he’s sure they’re both going to regret it.</p><p>“You weren’t… You didn’t just try to kiss me so I wouldn’t leave you alone?”</p><p>“What? <em>No</em>. Fuck. Are you serious?”</p><p>“It’s more a reflection on me than on you, I promis—<em>Shit</em>,” Henry hisses, a hand going to the front of the bandages, pushing down onto them.</p><p>Alex is up on his knees immediately, staring down at Henry’s tense form, his hands hovering uselessly over him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Nothing. It just… <em>Hurts,</em>” Henry says through gritted teeth. He blinks his eyes open and a low moan leaves him, before he gives up on the idea and closes them again.</p><p>“Dizzy?” Henry grunts. “Trashcan?”</p><p>“Might be best to keep it close.”</p><p>Alex grabs the trashcan from the bathroom where he had left it after washing it the night before,  and wets the washcloth again before returning to his side. Some of the pressure that’s been slowly building in his chest relaxes when Henry exhales at the cool sensation but his heart still hammers too loudly at the sight of him in so much pain out of the sudden. Or maybe he was better at hiding it before.</p><p>“Anything else I can do?”</p><p>“No. I’m sorry, love,” Henry whispers, yet still takes his hand in his own, squeezing for comfort.</p><p>Alex adores the way he pronounces that word, the way his accent curls around it. <em>Love.</em> He refuses to dwell on the meaning, even if too soon isn’t a valid measurement of time when their sense of time has been screwed over tenfold when the world as they knew it came to an end. Still, Alex himself tosses out <em>sweetheart</em> to tease and to show affection all the same, so what he does instead is marvel at how nice the word sounds to his ears and promises to give Henry every excuse to use it.</p><p>“Don’t be dumb. You’re sick. How many times do I need to remind you?”</p><p>“Oh, believe me, I’m quite aware of it at the moment.”</p><p>A knock comes from the door and after Henry’s approval, Shaan walks in. He immediately comes to his side once he sees the state of him, calling for Lisa to bring the thermometer from the first-aid kit and pressing two fingers on Henry’s wrist to check his pulse.</p><p>“It’s not the fever…” Henry says, his voice quiet and soft as a breath. “It just hurts.”</p><p>Shaan does not find any comfort in this new information. “Sir, could you clarify something for me? How <em>exactly</em> did you get the cuts?”</p><p>“From the monster?” he asks more than answers.</p><p>“Yes, but did they throw you on something or did they cut you themselves?”</p><p>Alex doesn’t know where Shaan is going with it but the conversation leaves him unsettled and it’s with more dread than hope that he waits to see what Shaan is trying to deduce.</p><p>“One of them… jumped on me, I guess. They cut me.”</p><p>Alex notices Shaan’s hold on Henry’s wrist tighten. “So these are scratch marks? From… talons, presumably?”</p><p>“Something of the sort. Shaan, what’s going on?”</p><p>Shaan turns to Alex instead. “Mr. Claremont-Diaz, is there a chance the wound got infected when you tried to bandage it?”</p><p>Alex’s stomach churns with guilt, his cheeks flushing a red bright enough to rival Henry’s. “Yeah. Maybe.” He looks over to Henry, his brows furrowed in pain. “I’m sorry. It was so stupid. I should have been more careful, I just wanted to get it done as quickly as possible because you-you looked like you were hurting.”</p><p>“Hey. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”</p><p>“Actually, Sir, it will be best if it is truly Mr. Claremont-Diaz’s fault.”</p><p>“What? Why?” Alex asks, his pulse quickening, guilty and stressed and annoyed at the same time.</p><p>Lisa shows up at the door, a thermometer clutched in her hands. She sees them arguing, however, and shies away at the entrance, studying the three of them with concern.</p><p>Shaan presses two fingers to his forehead, rubbing at a pressure point for a couple of seconds before he collects himself again. “Because unless you two know something I don’t, we don’t know what those creatures are, nor where they came from.”</p><p>“So?” Alex asks.</p><p>Lisa catches on first.  She must have been eavesdropping for longer than Alex has noticed her. “So… they might not be from here at all.”</p><p>“<em>So</em>?”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Alex looks toward Henry at his quiet exclamation, and he sees the way his eyes have widened, the light glimmer of fresh tears at the corners.</p><p>“We… don’t know if we have anything that could work against them.”</p><p>Shaan nods at him, his once pristine expression crumpled with sadness.</p><p>“What does that mean?” Alex asks again, hoping someone will say something to stop the connection his own mind makes. He already knows what it means. He knows it from the way his eyes won't leave Henry's face even as he addresses the room. He knows it from how his stomach twists and his heart burns with grief he thought he could lock away after that night. He sees the truth in the resignation that plagues Henry's face, in the sorrow pooling in his eyes when they meet Alex's own, burdened with the most remorseful shade they've ever worn.</p><p>"It means...” Henry says, covering his eyes with his arm and blocking them out, “we can do everything right and it still won't matter because there's not a cure for it in this world."</p><p>Lisa swallows. Hard. Her arms have wrapped around her midsection and she’s leaning heavily against the door frame. “You don’t know if the antibiotics will work because what’s infecting him might not be something we have the meds to fight off?”</p><p>“Exactly, Ms. Thomson.”</p><p>“Could you—could you leave me alone for a second?” Henry asks. Lisa’s expression pinches with hurt. He can’t see her and she doesn’t protest.</p><p>Alex moves to step out of the bed but Henry’s hand latches on his wrist, keeping him there.</p><p>Shaan takes his leave as well, with a promise to remain close by. “Sir?” he calls when he stops at the door. “We don’t know what made you sick yet. Please do not give up hope.”</p><p>Henry gives him a curt nod that convinces no one.</p><p>The door closes behind him and the silence falls heavy in the room. Alex doesn’t know what to say. “I never thought I’d hope I got you sick.”</p><p>Henry scoffs, the sound coming out wet. “Never? Not even when you hated me?”</p><p>He forces himself to lie down again, despite the nervous energy that sends his blood rushing to his ears. His arms reach for Henry, one behind his back, one lower on his hips, careful to hold without hurting him. He moves closer to his side, until he can rest his chin on Henry’s good shoulder. “I want to say no but I don’t know. Probably not <em>that</em> sick. I would have probably been smug about giving you a cold though, not gonna lie.”</p><p>“Thank you for your candor.”</p><p>“You think I can go back in time and fight myself?”</p><p>“The world is ending, somehow discovering the ability to time travel later this year doesn’t strike me as that odd anymore.” He chuckles quietly, the sound petering away too fast.</p><p>Alex knows Henry has something he needs to let out for he feels it when he starts shaking in his arms. With slow, deliberate movements, Henry shifts to his side so he can meet his eyes and there’s so much sorrow in his gaze that Alex has to hold himself back from crushing him in a hug, knowing how much that would physically hurt him.</p><p>“Alex, I’m so sorry. I tried. I promise. I tried so hard.”</p><p>Alex thinks he might use that trashcan for himself. “Hey. <em>Hey</em>. I know.” He takes his face in his hands, brushing away the moisture at the corners of his eyes. “None of this is your fucking fault. It might be mine. But definitely not yours, okay? And we don’t know anything yet, so <em>don</em><em>’t</em>—” He clears his throat when his voice breaks, surprised to find the cracked, jagged-end feeling in his chest has spread up his throat, a fault line that’s spreading to split him into pieces. “Don’t act like you’re going to die already. Shaan is right. Don’t give up hope yet, okay?”</p><p>Henry buries his face in Alex’s shoulder, and Alex plants a tender kiss to the top of his head.</p><p>“I promised you I’d stay,” he whispers, the words muffled from the fabric of his shirt.</p><p>“You will. Shut up.”</p><p>“At least you’ll know what happened to me, right?” Henry laughs, devoid of humor. Alex recognizes the words and they hit him like a truck, rattling bones and breaking hearts.</p><p>“I was wrong,” he admits. “This is worse. I just meant I wanted to keep you.”</p><p>“For as long as you’ll have me,” Henry echoes his own words this time and Alex kisses him again, feeling the sting of fresh tears in his eyes.</p><p>“Then never leave.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The good news: This chapter is long again! Woot! A whopping 4k words.</p><p>The bad news: This chapter happened.</p><p>Adjacent news: I have a new fic out, continuing my growing collection of obscure AUs. If you haven't checked it out already, give it a quick look and let me know what you thought! It's called Playing His Game, you can find it on my profile c: For anyone who loves angst and hurt/comfort, I promise there's going to be A LOT. Like A LOT.</p><p>As always, find me on tumblr @ saltfics to yell at me or ask me anything ;) Till next time~</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. we march we fight we live</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the sun went down that night, nobody wanted to spend it alone. Or, most likely, though Alex refused to dwell on what it meant, nobody wanted to spend it away from Henry. Even before the first sounds started coming from outside, Lisa peeked her head in from the door and asked if she would bother them too much if she stayed in their room that night. Two minutes later there was a nest of blankets on the floor by Henry’s side. Five minutes later, Shaan was resting on an armchair he dragged in without explanation from the living room, and with candles lit around them, they settled for the night.</p><p>The monsters raged outside, and Alex held Henry closer, sighing in simple joy when Henry turned around and buried his face in the spot between his shoulder and chest. The contentment in the gesture was too tainted by his fear but he focused on the feel of Henry’s breath against his skin, the warmth of his body next to him, and for one night he could ignore everything else.</p><p>Shaan’s presence was more reassuring than Alex thought it could be. Like finally having a real adult with them. Considering their current situation, they needed that more than ever.</p><p>And yet for first time since this started, facing the morning was more terrifying than braving the night.</p><p>Alex wakes up to the sound of the front door getting unblocked, though in Lisa’s defense, one can only be so quiet pushing around heavy furniture.</p><p>He walks up to the kitchen, trying to see what’s going on, and Shaan is already there, making tea and coffee. The look he gives him is too grave, and he says only one word: “Hurry.”</p><p>Alex rushes out the door. The cold bites through his thin t-shirt but he pays it no mind as he looks frantically around for Lisa.</p><p>A groan leaves him when he spots her.</p><p>There’s a second car parked next to theirs—Shaan’s?—and Lisa has already climbed on the driver’s seat. As she pulls into the road, Alex figures that getting run over probably hurts less than being torn to shreds by monsters anyway, which is a great example of the state of his mind before caffeine.</p><p>“It’s too early to do something stupid,” he grumbles and jumps right on the road in front of her.</p><p>The car screeches to a halt.</p><p>Lisa’s swearing can be heard before she even lowers the window.</p><p>“Are you a freaking maniac? What the <em>fuck</em> are you doing?”</p><p>“What am I doing? What are<em> you </em>doing? Where are you going?” Alex yells, rubbing at his arms for warmth.</p><p>“Get out of the way, Alex.”</p><p>Alex climbs up on the hood of the car instead, sitting cross-legged with his arms crossed in front of his chest, curling slightly inward from the cold. “<em>Or</em> I can not move from here until you tell me what’s going on.”</p><p>“What are you? <em>Five?</em>”</p><p>It bodes better for him not to respond.</p><p>Lisa groans but gets out of the car, slamming the door behind her. In the moment it takes for her to round up the car and stop in front of him, Alex thinks that maybe telling him he can win like this is not something they want to teach him.</p><p>“What are you doing, Alex?” Lisa sighs, copying his posture. Her eyes are bloodshot, the dark circles under them betraying her lack of sleep.</p><p>Alex frowns. “Where are you going? And how? I thought you couldn’t drive.”</p><p>Lisa huffs. “I can, I’m just bad at it. Which means you have to be exceptionally dumb to step in front of my car.” The furrow of her brows steals something from the smile she gives. “I mostly just didn’t want to be alone, you know?”</p><p>“Then why are you leaving now?”</p><p>She averts her eyes, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “You stayed with Frankie because of me and now—now, you might… I can’t. I can’t stay with you anymore, I’ve already caused <em>so</em> much trouble.”</p><p>“<em>Lisa.</em>”</p><p>“And I need to go find my aunt, anyway! She’s waiting for me, right? I can’t go to Texas!” She laughs, the sound ringing hollow in the space between them. “It’s fine. I’ll be all right. You can handle yourselves.”</p><p>“Okay, first of all: <em>doubtful</em>,” Alex chuckles. He can’t find the humor in his own words either, lost in that space in his chest that sits heavy and empty all the same, carved out at the thought of what she’s saying. He slides forward and takes her hands in his own. “Can you handle yourself?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine. I promise.”</p><p>“That’s a really big promise.”</p><p>She shrugs, her smile lazy but more genuine than before. “It is what it is. I can’t keep depending on other people. Look where it got me. I need to go, Alex. I’m tougher than I look, I swear.”</p><p>“We did meet with you having a gun to my head, so I’m inclined to believe that.” They laugh and he promises himself to memorize that sound, to keep the memory of it and use it to replace that terrible night they spent together, cover up the scars it left behind. “Lisa, the phone lines are still down. How will I—”</p><p>“You won’t.” She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And that’s okay. You don’t have to know. Sometimes it’s better not knowing.”</p><p>Before he can protest, Lisa pulls him into a hug. Her arms are steadier around him than he thought. They hold on for a moment too long, and when they break apart, his eyes are stinging, while she’s blinking too fast.</p><p>“Remember me like this. Know that I went on a crazy adventure by myself. And I made it. And I’m all right. Okay?”</p><p>“And if you don’t?” he asks, his voice hoarse.</p><p>“You’ll never know if I didn’t, will you? So as far as you’re aware, I fucking did.”</p><p>Alex grins. It’s both forced and honest all at once, and it tugs at his heartstrings and soothes them all the same. “I like that.” He gives her hands one more squeeze, before slipping down from the car. “Take care of yourself, okay?”</p><p>“Sure thing. You too.” She lets go of him and the sudden sense of loss has him leaning forward, but he doesn’t try to take her hand again. He watches her walk back towards the driver’s seat. With one foot inside the car, she gives him a final, soft-edged smile, her voice shaking when she adds, “Give Henry my love, too, yeah?”</p><p>“What’s the deal with you and Henry?” he laughs, focusing again on the wrong thing to spare himself of the right one. “I always meant to ask.”</p><p>“I just think he’s really nice. I like him.”</p><p>Alex nods. So did he. So, so much.</p><p>“I hope you guys are happy.”</p><p>Alex steps out of the way of the car and gives her the biggest smile he can muster, and even if it’s only half-genuine, she must have understood him. “Hey. As far as you’re aware, we fucking will be.”</p><p> </p><p>Shaan hands him a cup of coffee as soon as he heads back inside so Alex appreciates his presence a bit more. He doesn’t know <em>how</em> Shaan knows how he drinks his coffee but at this point, he has learned not to question anything that man achieves. Like how he got there before them. <em>How</em> did he get there before them?</p><p>He takes a seat on the stool next to the kitchen counter across from where Shaan is leaning. He squeezes his mug until it burns. “Why did you let her leave?”</p><p>“It wasn’t my position to stop her.”</p><p>Alex takes a sip, the slight scalding on his tongue making him focus. “What happened wasn’t her fault.”</p><p>“Did you tell her that?”</p><p>“I tried.”</p><p>Shaan sighs and he moves forward, taking a seat across from him. “His Highness told me—”</p><p>“You’re still going to call him that?”</p><p>“<em>Yes.</em>”</p><p>“Cool.”</p><p>“He told me that you asked him to come with you because you didn’t want to always wonder what happened to him.” He pauses for Alex to nod a confirmation. “That is certainly understandable for the situation, if not somewhat inconvenient for <em>me.</em>” The slight curve to his lips lets Alex chuckle along with him. “However, this is a very traumatic reality we’ve found ourselves in, Mr. Claremont-Diaz. And not all coping mechanisms will be the same. If Ms. Thomson didn’t want to see either of you hurt, I don’t think anyone could blame her for that. Could you?”</p><p>Alex lets his gaze fall to his mug, turning it around in his hands. He’s not wrong but it still means that he’ll never know what happened to Lisa.</p><p>He’s hit again by the thought that he’ll probably never see her again, even if they both survive, and it brings with it both a sense of loss and wonder, of how two people can get so close and entangled in each other’s lives then leave like they were never there at all. No marks but memories that will fade and fold in on themselves until they say what his mind wants them to say, until his memory of her might not be her at all.</p><p>He wants to run after her and give a bigger, better, more deserving goodbye, or even better, tell her to stay and he realizes again that he’s already <em>too late</em> to do. She’s lost to him. For good.</p><p>He groans, crossing his arms in front of him on the counter and burying his face in them. He hates this. He hates it, he hates it, he hates it.</p><p>He tilts his head up just enough to glimpse at Shaan. “Can I confess something to you? No judgment.”</p><p>“In my line of work, you learn not to judge, Sir.”</p><p>“Do I wanna know?”</p><p>“Even if you did, I would not tell you.”</p><p>“That’s fair.” Alex sits up a little higher, still mostly bent over the counter. “I’m going to do it anyway.” Shaan watches him, waiting. “I’m just… I’m so, <em>so</em> tired, man. It’s only been, what? Two months? Two and a half? There’s no end to it in sight, and I’m already exhausted. When I think of all the things I’ll never get to do again, all the plans ruined. All the people—” He stops, blinking fast against the sting in his eyes. “I want to go back to normal. I don’t how to keep doing this, not without an end in sight.”</p><p>A hand touches his shoulder, startling him into a proper sitting position. Shaan has a sympathetic look on his face and his grip is so steady on him it’s more comforting than it should be. “It’s normal to grieve for what is lost. We’ll eventually settle into a different normal. All we can do is survive until then.”</p><p>“I don’t <em>want</em> it.” His voice cracks and he looks away, pretending to take a sip from his mug to give him something to do.</p><p>“Alex? What’s wrong?”</p><p>Henry watches them from the doorway to the room, leaning heavily against the wooden frame. The comforter from the bed is wrapped around his shoulder, and with the pink dusting on his cheeks, if it weren’t for the pinched expression on his face, he almost looks like he’s sick with the sniffles. Alex spends a second imagining it anyway, the pure domesticity of it. In another, <em>safer</em> universe, sick days spent cuddled up in bed, warm soup and tea, blankets and soft sweaters. The image drives the point home, of how deep he’s already in this. How much it will hurt if…</p><p>Shaan moves to Henry’s side in seconds, a hand on his back, leading him forward, the other on his forehead. “Please take a seat, Sir. You still have a fever.”</p><p>“How are you feeling?” Alex asks, stretched halfway up his seat. “Should you be up?”</p><p>Henry lets Shaan leads him to a chair and takes the mug of tea he’s offered with a grateful smile. “I was tired of sitting all day.” His voice is heavy with exhaustion, and he blinks too slowly, for too long.</p><p>“Baby, you’re sure you don’t want to sleep for a little longer?”</p><p>That wakes him up. The blush on his cheeks grows hotter, his eyes widening in surprise at the nickname. “I’m-I’m well,” he chokes out, and Alex grins with more smugness than he thought he had in him under the circumstances. “Well enough.”</p><p>“Define ‘well enough.’”</p><p>“I walked here?”</p><p>Shaan makes their breakfast, while Alex tells Henry about Lisa. He doesn’t seem surprised at the news, but he leans forward even more, packing himself tighter on the chair. “She’ll be fine,” he mutters, though he doesn’t seem to be talking to Alex at all. “If she could survive Frankie, she can make it on her own, too.”</p><p>Henry gets another round of medicine, and Alex annoys the crap out of Shaan by insisting he teach <em>him</em> how to change the bandages properly, instead of letting him do the damn thing in under five minutes on his own.</p><p>Shaan must see something in Henry’s eyes when he looks over for a decision because he agrees to instruct him. Alex doesn’t know <em>what</em> it was that Shaan understood but the idea warms him up inside with something he can’t name in himself either</p><p>He loathes looking at the wounds; the wave of guilt he gets, the gut-wrenching worry making his stomach twist. And he didn’t get to see the infection the night before, with Shaan there to do it for him, so it’s even worse today, merging reality with the thoughts that have been haunting him. More than the red lines or the angry skin, he hates the way Henry hisses the most, the way his hands clench against the edges of the bed, or how he closes himself off to hide how much it hurts him.</p><p>So he’s surprised when Shaan, who observes him the entire time like a hawk, speaks up from behind him. “I believe that is better than it was yesterday, Sir.”</p><p>Henry gives him a smile, tense but shaky with a hesitant sort of hope. “You think so?”</p><p>Alex wishes for that look, that smile to steady itself at last, an almost permanent fixture on his face. He places a hand on his cheek, stroking along his cheekbone with his thumb, trying to ignore how warm his skin is. “Of course it is. I told you, it’s going to be fine, baby.” This time Henry doesn’t freeze. This time he melts at the sound, leaning towards the touch. Alex’s insides do that warm thing again he doesn’t understand.</p><p>He gives him one quick peck on the lips, before he goes back to the task at hand, unable to fight a grin at the smile that stays on Henry’s face. Sucicess.</p><p>“<em>Hands</em>, Mr. Claremont-Diaz.”</p><p>“Fuck me, not again.”</p><p>“It’s all right, love,” Henry laughs, and hey, at least he’s laughing.</p><p>“The fucking <em>monsters</em> are cleaner than me!”</p><p> </p><p>They spend the day lazing around. With Henry still sick, Alex can’t even imagine traveling. Which is exactly why he shouldn’t be surprised when Henry himself suggests it. The self-sacrificing idiot that he is.</p><p>“Hypothetically,” he says, “If I asked you to keep going without me, what would you say?”</p><p>They’re lying on the bed just after lunch, Henry’s head on Alex’s stomach (and his legs halfway out the bed to make up for the height difference). Alex is carding his fingers through Henry’s hair and smirks when he hums in content every few minutes.</p><p>“I’d say your fever is getting worse.”</p><p>“Alex.”</p><p>“Shut up. Don’t be dumb. I’m not leaving you.” He highlights the complete lack of bite in his words by pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Do you <em>want </em>me to leave? Is that why you keep bringing it up?”</p><p>Alex was joking, but Henry looks up in alarm. “<em>No</em>. No, of course not.”</p><p>“Then?”</p><p>“You could go ahead to your family and I’ll join you when I’m feeling better.” He shrugs and regrets it immediately when it pulls at his side. “Shaan is here too now. So I’ll be okay.”</p><p>Alex kisses him again. “You would have been fine either way. You’re tougher than you look. But you don’t have to.”</p><p>“Alex—”</p><p>“Tell me the truth, Henry.”</p><p>Henry removes the hand fron his hair to hold it in his own, keeping his eyes there as he plays with their fingers to avoid Alex’s gaze. “I know Shaan said it was getting better but… I don’t think you should be here if it gets worse.”</p><p>Alex’s heart falls to his stomach so fast Henry must have felt it moving. He breathes through the panic that lodges in its place and takes a second to find the right words around all stress that’s skyrocketed with one simple sentence. “You’re such a fucking idiot.” Try again. One more time. “If something <em>does</em> go wrong, I will be by your side, Hen. I want to stay with you.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t have to watch—”</p><p>“I won’t <em>watch </em>anything. I want to be <em>there </em>for you, okay? So unless you have a legitimate reason to want me to leave that’s not ‘sparing my feelings’ or whatever it is you think you’re doing, I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>Henry huffs, a smile tugging at his lips. He looks up to meet Alex’s gaze, and Alex’s heart aches at the gentle glimmer in his eyes.</p><p>“And when you get better, we can be a badass monster-hunting duo, and ride the apocalypse the way Hollywood intended.”</p><p>He throws his head back and laughs, and Alex holds him just a little bit closer to his heart.</p><p>“Fine. But then we’ll leave tomorrow.”</p><p>“We’ll <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“If you don’t want to leave without me, we’re leaving tomorrow.”</p><p>“<em>Henry</em>.” Alex pushes himself to his elbows, cringing when Henry groans. “There’s no hurry.” He sits up to free his hands, and runs his hands through Henry’s hair, freeing his eyes to look at him. “I’m going to get to Texas eventually, baby, don’t worry about it.”</p><p>Henry reaches up and kisses the palm of his hand where he’s touching him, and Alex needs a moment to land back on earth again.  “Either Shaan is right and it’s getting better, which means by tomorrow I should be able to handle a simple car-ride in a reclined chair… or it’s getting worse.”</p><p>“And if it is?”</p><p>“And if it is, and you insist on not leaving without me,” Henry says and he smiles, full of fondness. “Then I want to make it to the end of the road before it.”</p><p>“Well, that’s dumb,” he says though his heart aches. He leans forward to kiss every bit of him he can reach. “You need to stop putting a finish line to this relationship, Hen.”</p><p>Henry stretches his neck when Alex tries to pull back, kissing him again. “In my defense, the world seems to be putting finish lines for us.”</p><p>“Fuck the world.”</p><p>Henry places his hands on the nape of Alex’s neck, keeping him close. “You’ve said that before,” he whispers. He can sense his smile a breath away from his own.</p><p>“I did?”</p><p>“’<em>Fuck this unforgiving universe and let</em><em>’s do our own thing despite it,’” </em>Henry quotes. “You said it when we left the hotel.”</p><p>Alex breaks them apart, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly parted. “You remember that?”</p><p>Henry grins, and despite the paleness of his skin, the feverish cheeks and darkened eyes, it’s beautiful to look at. “Of course I did.”</p><p>“And here I thought you didn’t like me,” Alex huffs, returning the gesture.</p><p>But Henry’s expression crumbles, then hardens, before finally, <em>finally</em> he decides to shed that protective layer he puts on like an instinct. “<em>Alex</em>…” he breathes, his lips trembling between a smile and a scowl, “I <em>never</em>—I never hated you.”</p><p>“No? Come on, Hen. Not even Rio? You basically told me to get lost.”</p><p>Henry’s grip on him tightens as he lowers his eyes. He takes a moment to gather himself before he looks back up again. “I wanted you away from me because I couldn’t handle someone like you.”</p><p>Alex freezes. “You… what?”</p><p>Henry’s face scrunches up, and he looks like he regrets at least half of his life decisions up to that point. “I can’t believe I said this. But I also might die in a few days, so honestly, who bloody cares, right?”</p><p>“I do. I care.”</p><p>He flinches in on himself even harder, not meeting his gaze.</p><p>Alex feels his chest expand. “<em>Henry,</em>” he demands. Without looking at him still, Henry tries to say something, anything, to excuse himself. Alex is having none of it. “Shut the fuck up.”</p><p>He pulls him in for a kiss and even with all that extra space in his chest, he still overflows.</p><p>“You’re the best thing that could have happened to me among everything,” Alex whispers between breaths. Henry smiles against his lips, a low chuckle on the back of his throat. With his arms around his neck, Alex feels it on his fingertips.</p><p>“Have you seen outside? That’s not that hard.”</p><p>“Asshole. I can’t wait for you to get better.”</p><p>“Is that—”</p><p>Henry gasps mid-sentence.</p><p>Alex pulls him closer on instinct.</p><p>He thought he’d gotten used to the feeling of the monsters showing up at night. But the windows rattle when the sound gets sucked from their world and Alex immediately knows something is wrong.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I tried to write more of the last scene but I'm very tired and very very busy so have a cliffhanger-ish ending instead? Whoops?</p><p>It was unfortunately time to say goodbye to Lisa. :/ See ya in another life. (Literally. She's literally in other stories).</p><p>(p.s. in case you havent noticed yet, my weird au collection has gotten a +1 recently ;) )</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. your world will fail my love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The inhuman shrill that cuts across the silence breaks his world in two. The windows are boarded up but they can hear the glittering sound of glass cracking on the other side.</p><p>“Fuck. Fuck, no,” Alex curses under his breath, scrambling to his feet. “Hen, get up, Come on.” He takes Henry’s outstretched hand and pulls him up, wincing when Henry hisses at the pain. “<em>Shaan</em>!” he yells towards the living room. “We need some help in here!”</p><p>They back away so much they hit the wall, Henry’s hand clutching Alex’s shirt, Alex’s own gripping Henry’s arm. The breakage on the other side is getting louder, the holes expanding, and he knows that if one of them tries to crash through the boards it won’t take them long to get inside.</p><p>“I think I was wrong,” Henry admits in a small voice. “I can’t-I can’t do this again.”</p><p>Alex breathes through the pain in his chest and holds him even tighter. “You’re with me this time. I got you.”</p><p>Henry half-sobs, half-laughs, the sound getting stuck halfway out his throat. “That doesn’t make me feel any better, Alex. I can’t watch you get hurt.”</p><p>Shaan bursts in the room, holding what looks like the kitchen torch Alex forgot they stole from the hotel. He wastes no time; the moment he sees them cowering against the wall, he steps in front of them, then ushers them out the door. Alex grabs Henry’s good shoulder and they scramble out the door together, tripping over their own feet.</p><p>“What do we do?’ Alex asks.</p><p>Henry detaches from his side to go through their backpacks. “We burn it.”</p><p>“Burn what?”</p><p>He pulls two lighters from the pockets and tosses him one. “<em>Everything</em>.”</p><p>“Henry?”</p><p>“Find something to start a fire. Lighter fluid, gasoline…”</p><p>“Alcohol? I saw some under the sink.”</p><p>“Yes! Hurry.”</p><p>Alex runs to the kitchen, diving to his knees and sliding the last of the distance there. He throws the cabinet open and grabs as many bottles as he can carry. His hands are shaking, The liquid sloshes in the bottles as he tries to get back. Fear is firing all his nerves and he doesn’t understand. He’s been through this before. Trapped in a building with the creatures outside about to break in.</p><p>A <em>bang</em> crashes against the door and Alex stumbles into Henry’s side. He passes him one of the bottles, uncapping the other for himself. And as Henry stays close to his side, brushing against each other so much he <em>knows </em>it’s done on purpose, Alex gets it.</p><p>It’s the difference between thinking you’ve already lost and having everything to lose.</p><p>They pour the alcohol over everything that will catch—chairs, tables, any wooden surface they haven’t already used to barricade themselves. Shaan joins them in the living room, his face pinched with tension but his hands are steady when he grasps Henry’s arm, halting the flow. “Don’t. We can’t. There’s no time.”</p><p>“It will light up fast enough,” Henry points out, though his hold on the bottle slackens.</p><p>“You’re in a closed space. You’re either going to die getting out of here or suffocate in the fire.”</p><p>Henry’s eyes widen. He lets Shaan pry the bottle from his grip, leaving Alex an opening to take his hand and squeeze with all he had, like they could just stay together through this if only he held on hard enough. Henry returns his desperation doubled.</p><p>“So what do we do?” Alex asks.</p><p>“Follow my lead.”</p><p>They run to the kitchen area and grab all the bottles they can carry, lighters and cloth napkins. By the time Alex realizes what they’re doing, he’s too shell-shocked to protest and before he has a chance to question their plan, he hears the one sound he’s always dreaded, piercing his ears like a cry.</p><p>Shattering glass rains down in the other room. They’re not alone anymore.</p><p>He hears Shaan try to unblock the door behind them but Alex can’t look away from the bedroom door. His imagination runs a minute faster than reality and he thinks that can prepare him for the sight. But dreaming of something horrifying always has a sense of mocking surreality, detached like a dream. And when reality pulls it out into the light it tears all pretense of logic with it, catching at the seams and distorting it all.</p><p>Cold shock washes over him, his breath captured in a silent gasp of terror as the door creaks open with one long, drawn-out sound, too simple in the cacophony of the broken world around them. Thin, charcoal digits slip through the opening, stretching and <em>stretching</em>, twisting like branches of an ancient tree, a long-forgotten god no longer content with being ignored.</p><p>Around them, bangs and crashes and breakage still litters the air yet Alex can hear nothing but the strange, breathless whistle that comes from the creature at the door.</p><p>“Alex!”</p><p>It’s the only thing that can snap his eyes away. He trusts Henry with his life. So when he calls, even if he’s scared, he whirls around anyway. As the turns, the figure moves in the edges of his vision. He catches a glimpse of it; of a shadow moving, a blurred, spreading edge of darkness. A nightmare.</p><p>Henry is less than a step away from him and he presses a hand to his cheek, holding Alex there, grounded. He stops him from turning back to look at the creature behind him. “Look at me,” he says with a wobbly smile, tears in his eyes. “Look at <em>me</em>.”</p><p>And he tosses a lit lighter behind them.</p><p>An inhuman screech tears through the air, sending full-body shivers down Alex’s spine. Like metal scraping on metal, amplified to a hundred, a violin screech twisted out of tune. Thick smoke fills the room too fast; it smells like burning oil but leaves his mouth tasting like ash.</p><p>Glass breaks and another high-pitched scream of terror pierces through his ears and his heart and every soft internal tissue that he has. It’s too much, it’s so much and he needs it to <em>stop</em>.</p><p>“Hurry!” Shaan yells at them from the door. He’s unblocked the door already, and burned the creature that was waiting for them at that exit.</p><p>Henry takes a fistful of his shirt and pulls him towards the exit. At the last stretch he trips over the abandoned pieces of wood and Alex has to scramble to rearrange his grip so he doesn’t fall over. A shocked hiss escapes him before he can school his expression.</p><p>“Henry—”</p><p>“I’m fine, let’s get out of here.”</p><p>Alex doesn’t believe him but they don’t exactly have the time to discuss it.</p><p>They run out of the house, leaving flames and unholy sounds and all their things behind to burn. They took just the packs, emptied of everything but all the flammable things they could hold. The cold air bites against his skin despite the heat of the fire. The horrid smell clings to him in the tendrils of smoke that follow them outside. Shaan is head of them, using everything from lighters to matchsticks, to that damned kitchen torch to open a path, leaving the bottles for more severe emergencies. Little fires are scattered around them now where monsters used to be and suddenly he finds it a lot more believable that Shaan survived for so long out there on his own.</p><p>It doesn’t fully hit Alex until he sees him throw open the car door that they’re really intending to make a run for it like there’s even the slightest chance that they’ll be able to outrun them.</p><p>“We’ll never make it,” Alex whispers under his breath.</p><p>Henry hears him anyway. “We have—<em>fuck—</em>we have to try.” His hand is against his injured side, his face scrunched up in pain. “Not now,” he gasps, gritting his teeth, his breaths deepening.</p><p>“Your wounds?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine.”</p><p>But Alex outruns him in seconds. One moment they’re side by side and the next he realizes Henry has fallen too far behind. Alex whirls around, a hand already outstretched to help him. Henry’s fingertips brush against his own when Shaan screams ahead of them.</p><p>
  <em>“HENRY!”</em>
</p><p>The use of his name is so alien with that voice that it takes him a few precious seconds to realize the danger. Until Henry is wrenched from the hold he never got a chance to grasp, the afterimage of a shadow where he used to be.</p><p>His breath is torn from his chest as if by force, leaving Alex with no voice to call out for him. But he hears Henry cry out in pain and he follows the sound, searching frantically through the panic and the haze of the fires between them.</p><p>He finds him several feet away, writhing on the ground, trapped under a… trapped under the grip—</p><p>Alex runs faster than he ever has in his life, a white-knuckled grip already around the bottle from his pack, while he fumbles with a lighter with his other hand. He sees it now, the—the <em>thing,</em> though he tries to keep his eyes on Henry, lest he lose his composure at a moment too crucial. It’s standing above him, long, clawed <em>not</em>-hands wrapped around Henry’s shoulders, the finger-like appendages spread out like prison bars over him. Its body is stretched out above him, hovering, like its trying to mirror his position, and its <em>face</em>, if he could call it that, is inches away from Henry’s own.</p><p>Alex feels his heart try to jump out of his throat. “<em>Henry</em>!” If he throws fire at this thing, it could hurt Henry too.</p><p>But Henry doesn't panic. “Wait!” He calls out, his eyes glued on whatever he finds on the face of the thing. The yell startles something in it, for it <em>moves</em>, a shuddering movement that starts at the top and travels down fast, all the way to its edges that still fold and twist too much to give it a proper shape.</p><p>Alex takes a few tentative steps closer to them. “Henry?”</p><p>“Just wait!” Henry yells again, and it reacts to it once more. “<em>Wait!</em>” he says, louder and the thing vibrates harder, a fast, clacking sound accompanying the movement, like beads on a string. But hollower. Like bone. Henry frowns. It’s still moving over him, waves of movements running up and down, and up and down.</p><p>Alex is going to be sick.</p><p>Not Henry. Henry lifts his hand as much as he can under its grip, reaches up towards it. The sound grows louder, the movement ceaseless. He presses his fingers over its surface.</p><p>The creature recoils, letting out a shocked cry, high-pitched and long like the screech of a kettle. Henry’s face has twisted in horror, his chest moving in exaggerated motions as he breathes too heavily through his shock.</p><p>“Now?” Alex shouts, exasperated.</p><p>If he hadn’t been looking at him, he wouldn’t have heard the quiet <em>no </em>he gave him.</p><p>“<em>Henry!</em>” The loud sound steals the monster’s attention and for one single, terrifying moment the thing turns to face <em>him</em>. Alex falls back in shock, scrambling away. Fear crawls down his neck. He can’t make out the creature's face, can’t be sure it has one. But he feels its gaze burrowing deep into him, nailing him to the spot. Numbness prickles at his ends, cold spreading from his fingertips and toes, from the crown of his head down his forehead.</p><p>Henry grabs the creature’s arm and it withdraws with another cry. It removes itself from Henry, from them both. And it lets out one final scream before it vanishes back into the night. “<strong>AALeX.</strong>”</p><p>Alex lets out a relieved sigh as Shaan comes over to him to help him stand. “Did that… creature call your name?”</p><p>“Somehow I’m not the least bit surprised it was that one.” It’s just his luck.</p><p>They both go help Henry to his feet, who assures them he’s fine like the liar that he is. They’re halfway to the car, Henry leaning heavily on both of them when Alex feels something wet spread against his side. He pulls back and stares in horror at the red stain that’s spreading through Henry’s shirt.</p><p>“You’re bleeding,” he says. Then he repeats it, trying to make the words register. “Henry, you’re <em>bleeding</em>.”</p><p>Henry shakes his head. “The wounds got pulled at. We can deal with that later. We need to get out of here.”</p><p>Alex looks at him in horror but when he turns to Shaan for help he, too, shakes his head at him. Henry’s right. Getting out is the first priority here. Alex hates it.</p><p>Shaan gets the front seat, with both Alex and Henry in the back, in the hopes that the new damage on the wound won’t be too severe for Alex not to handle it himself. His insistence at being taught how to dress Henry’s wounds now seems a lot more warranted.</p><p>Shaan pulls the car out into the road, his grip tense around the wheel. Henry is pushing against the cushions of his seat as he presses against the wound at his side, eyes closed, his expression twisted with pain.</p><p>“Hen?” Alex whispers. He pushes Henry’s hair back, letting his hand linger on his cheek. “Sweetheart, let me see.”</p><p>Henry pries one eye open to look at him. “I—”</p><p>A scream comes from behind them. At this point, Alex is just grateful it's not his name. Fucking mimicking bastards.</p><p>“Get ready,” Shaan says. “I will help if I have to but it’d be best not to stop.”</p><p>Alex is halfway through pulling out all the ammunition they have before he even finishes the sentence. “Where exactly are we going?” he asks, handing Henry a bottle he hopes he won’t need to use. It’s Alex’s turn to take care of them now. And he’ll burn the whole place to the ground before he lets them get anywhere near Henry again.</p><p>“Texas, wasn’t it, Sir?”</p><p>Alex blinks. <em>Oh</em>.</p><p>“Open the window, Mr. Claremont-Diaz. I don’t think I have to tell you what happens to cars that let those creatures get close enough to touch.”</p><p>Alex swallows. He remembers well enough.</p><p>He lowers the window and he’s just about to push himself halfway out when Henry’s soft laughter catches him by surprise. “Something funny?”</p><p>And Henry simply says, “It’s night.”</p><p>It should have taken him longer to understand what that meant but maybe he and Henry always understood each other more than they thought. Alex gives himself one moment before they continue the fight for their lives, and turns his gaze towards the sky.</p><p>Towards the stars that glitter as brightly as they always did.</p><p>Alex blinks back the tears and lights the fabric sticking out the end of the bottle in his hands. “Come on. We can make it home. We made it this far after all.”</p><p>Henry lets out a wet chuckle. “Ride or die?” he asks, repeating Alex’s old words.</p><p>“Nope. Tonight we just ride.”</p><p>And when the first shadow rushes towards him, he lets the glow of the fire rival the stars.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is a bit shorter but it felt like a good place to stop. Let me know what you thought! See ya all in December probably~ Until then you can come yell at me @ saltfics on tumblr c:</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. you're everything I believe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex has never been so stressed in his life.</p><p>The get-them-as-they-come strategy that they try works okay for a while but it's too risky and Alex can't handle the pressure for long. It also stops him from checking on Henry, who's quiet and considerate of the situation, refusing to complain even as he grows paler, the sting from his wounds shaping his expression.</p><p>Shaan senses their distress even focused as he is on getting them as far away as possible. He must know they can't keep this up all night.</p><p>"Your Highness, I need you to do something for me," he says, looking at Henry through the rearview mirror.</p><p>"What... is it?" Henry asks, a little breathless.</p><p>"Get the flares ready. Mr. Claremont-Diaz, keep it up until my signal, then help him." Alex nods but Shaan's not finished. "Prepare to get out of the vehicle."</p><p>"<em>Excuse</em>—"</p><p>"And run."</p><p>Henry shoots him a panicked look just as Alex feels the blood drain from his face.</p><p>"R-Run?"</p><p>"Shaan, I don't think I—Are you certain?" The fear is evident in the pitch of Henry's voice. Alex wants to comfort him somehow but they have no time even if he knew what he could possibly say.</p><p>"I'm afraid we don't have another choice, Sir."</p><p>He doesn't know what Shaan's waiting for but when he tells them to get ready, Alex helps Henry with the flares before he prepares himself as well. In a last second decision, he takes Henry's free hand in his own.</p><p>"Now!" Shaan orders as he slams on the breaks.</p><p>Alex throws open the door before they have even stopped. He drags Henry out with him, apologizing profusely when he hisses at the pull. They scramble out of the car and when Shaan doesn't stop they start running after him.</p><p>There's another vehicle car ahead of them, the first one they've seen in a while. They don't really get a lot of them after they get out of the cities. But that has to be why Shaan stopped and considering how far they're still from it, Alex thinks he knows what they're about to do.</p><p>They've really become experts in arson, haven't they?</p><p>"Now, Sir!"</p><p>Henry lights the flare, sparks flying on his side. They're still holding on to each other, even if Henry is managing himself well, keeping up with them as they run, no matter the personal cost.</p><p>"What do we need the flares for?" Alex shouts over the noise.</p><p>"Is this the time for questions?" Henry asked, incredulous.</p><p>"They don't seem to like them! Why did you think I carried them?"</p><p>"Oh, cool, so we're safe for sixty seconds at a time?!"</p><p>"Then you might want to hurry instead of questioning, Mr. Claremont-Diaz!"</p><p>A screech follows behind them, warping in space, fluctuating as it circles them. The shadowed figures go around and around them, approaching but never getting close enough. Shaan and Alex stay close to Henry, while Alex prepares the next to be lit up before this one fades out.</p><p>They reach the car and Shaan breaks the window all the way through the cracks already there. Alex and Henry cover him as he douses the inside with their lighter fluid.</p><p>"We're going to spend the night by a car on fire. Fantastic," Alex huffs as he prepares the third one. If Shaan doesn't start the fire soon they'll have a problem.</p><p>"Be glad we might get to spend the night!" Henry shouts, his hand stretched away from his face to protect himself from the sparks. "I have to admit I'm somewhat glad I'm not alone this time."</p><p>"You're right. Our first camping trip, baby!"</p><p>Henry laughs, loud enough to be heard over the noise. And if he's going to die tonight he's glad he got to hear this, and he'll hold on to the sound for as long as he can.</p><p>"All right, let's step away."</p><p>They distance themselves from the car, as Shaan tosses a lighter inside and the fuel catches fire. For now, it's only in the interior but it's going to flare up soon.</p><p>"What happens if something gets shot from there in an explosion?"</p><p>"We're playing our odds."</p><p>Oh, yay.</p><p>They move as far as they can be while still being close enough for the monsters not to approach them, knowledge Henry is still paying for but it helps them now. Alex is grateful he ignored every safety protocol and grabbed one of the remaining two backpacks on their way out—they seem to be losing them too fast.</p><p>He grabs any first aid they have and a flashlight before he places it behind Henry's back to prop him up. Alex wants to dress the wound himself, he wants to feel useful, or at least like he's helping him more than he's making things worse. After all he's the one who got him infected, he's the one who barricaded the windows wrongly, he's the one who let Henry get fucking tackled by one of those infernal monsters and couldn't even help him until the thing decided to let him ago itself. For once, for once he wants to take care of him, properly. But he settles for not screwing up instead.</p><p>He hands the supplies to Shaan and just holds the flashlight in place, trying not to cringe when Shaan peels back Henry's shirt to inspect the damage. Blood has seeped through his bandages, along with the stains of dirt from where he was pushed to the ground.</p><p>Shaan starts unwrapping the gauge next, and Henry squirms, pushing at his feet.</p><p>Alex uses his free hand to stroke the side of his face. Sweat and grime are sticking to his skin but Alex only sees the look he gives him, when Henry blinks his eyes open for him even if his whole face is scrunched up and tense.</p><p>"Hey, sweetheart. It's okay. Come on, you've been through worse. Shaan will dress this up for you again and it'll be fine," Alex whispers, tracing the line of his cheekbone with his thumb. "Just look at me. Keep your eyes on me, baby."</p><p>Despite everything, Henry smiles. "I am." </p><p>What a fucking dork. He loves—</p><p>Alex freezes, his hand twitching. It's noticeable enough for Henry to frown, to place a hand on his arm to ground him.</p><p>"Alex? What's wrong?"</p><p>"Nothing." He swallows past the emotion that rocketed from his heart up his throat. "Nothing, everything's great." Henry shoots him a look. "Apocalyptic monsters notwithstanding."</p><p>"Are you sure you're all right?"</p><p>"I'm great. I promise." He leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. "Just worried about you," he whispers on his skin, resting his own head against him. "You have to be fine, Hen. You <em>have</em> to."</p><p>He feels a hand tangle in his curls, scratching gently at his scalp. "Hey. You said it yourself. I've been through worse."</p><p>"Yeah but—"</p><p>"Mr. Claremont-Diaz, terribly sorry to ask this of you, but could you please continue this a bit more to the left."</p><p>"Sorry."</p><p>Henry chuckles as Alex gives him a sheepish grin, and he threads their fingers together instead, holding tight.</p><p>He doesn't let go for the rest of the night.</p><p> </p><p>The car doesn't explode on them and pierce them with debris so they are at least that lucky.  At some point during the night, Alex huddles next to Henry, sharing the backpack for a pillow as they settle in until the morning. The fire burns brightly next to them, or rather, a little ways away so they can avoid the smoke as much as they can—death by toxic fumes sounds less painful than monsters but he'd still rather just survive the night.</p><p>He doesn't sleep but he spends those few hours they have left until the sunrise staring up at the stars in the sky, pulling Henry closer to him when they get too cold. His breath tickles against Alex's skin as he buries his face in the crook of his neck, and Alex runs his fingers through his hair, dirty and matted as it is, lulling at least one of them into a peaceful sleep.</p><p>And he tries not to ponder on the thought that invaded him earlier but it keeps slipping to the forefront of his mind. It curls around the pieces of his heart, spreading through him with each pump of blood that keeps him alive. He holds Henry close and the grip tightens until it hurts, for it shouldn't be possible, not so fast, and for all the fear this new world has given him, that's the part that scares him the most.</p><p>Even if a thousand <em>don't-leave-me</em>'s have already gone through his mind in so many occasions, they're so much scarier now that he understands why.</p><p>When pale morning light washes away the night from the sky, Henry shifts against him with the first signs of consciousness, and Alex smiles despite the exhaustion. He exhales, the stress replaced with the relief of a new day.</p><p>"Mr. Claremont-Diaz?" Shaan asks as he approaches them. He removed himself from them during the night, just far enough to give them some privacy. "Could you tell me where exactly we're going in Texas? We're close enough; we might be able to make it there by nightfall."</p><p>There goes his relaxed state. That lasted about two minutes.</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"We are heading to Austin, correct? I don't believe we'll have to stop again except for gas."</p><p>"You're serious right now? We're actually..." His chest clenches with anticipation. Or stress. Or both. They've been on the road for a week, dealing with disaster after disaster. He hasn't seen his family for more than two months. He hasn't seen his childhood home since his mom's election.  </p><p>He's going to make it home.</p><p>"'s happening?" Henry grumbles, waking up. He rubs at his eyes with his free hand, the other still clutched in Alex's hold.</p><p>"Shaan thinks we might make it to Austin today," he says, feeling a prick of fear at the words, like he'll jinx it.</p><p>"Truly? That's... wonderful." He pushes himself to a sitting position, letting out a careful breath through his nose. "<em>Hmph</em>."</p><p>Alex scrambles up after him so fast he makes himself dizzy. "You okay?"</p><p>Shaan places the back of his hand against his forehead, frowning. "Sleeping outside did not help with your fever. How are you feeling, Sir?"</p><p>"Bit nauseated. But not as bad as it could be," Henry admits, still taking deep breaths. "It's fine. I'll warm up in the car."</p><p>They're out of other choices so they walk back to their ride, where Shaan takes the driver's seat again, while Alex hovers between the front and back seat for a second before Henry tells him to just ride shotgun in case Shaan needs help with navigating. They hand Henry a set of pills and the last of their water, hoping they'll find a gas station soon with both fuel and some more supplies there. They did manage to snatch some things on their way out of the house but most of them got abandoned there. </p><p>Only after Henry assures them for the third time that he's as well as he can be, and he'll manage, do they start driving, perhaps for the last day until they reach their destination. </p><p>They find their gas station about an hour in, and Shaan leaves them in the car as he goes to check it out.</p><p>Maybe for the first time, Alex doesn't know what to say. His mind is still flooded with thoughts about the two of them but admitting them out loud feels out of the question. Henry has more important things to worry about, and the last thing he wants is to make things awkward between them in the final stretch of the trip.</p><p>He jolts when something touches his arm.</p><p>"Easy. Are you well?" Henry has slipped his hand through the gap between the seat and the car door, tracing patterns on his arm. "You seem troubled, love."</p><p>There it is again. <em>Love</em>. Henry's been calling him that for a couple of days now. But it's not the same thing, is it?</p><p>"I'm fine, baby," he says, heat gathering around his neck. "Just nervous. I have no idea what we'll find when we get there." It's not a lie but he hasn't allowed himself to think that on top of everything else. Except now he does and it gets another thread of fears to unravel inside of him, tangling along with all the rest. "It was fine when we had a goal and I could just <em> hope </em>it would turn out okay—as long as there was no proof of the opposite I could go on believing there's a place where everything... where everything would be okay."</p><p>Henry's fingers curl in on his arm, his grip steadying, and Alex places his own hand on top, squeezing tightly. "Can I ask you something?"</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>"How did you know you had to go to Texas? Shouldn't your family be in D.C.?"</p><p>"Oh, June called right before the phone lines went down. She had to go there for the weekend, and she said she'll stay there until... well, until things got better." Alex flinches. He can barely recall being this optimistic about the situation. The tragedy of it all weighs on him when he allows himself to dwell on who he was just a short few months before. "She said she'll call mom too. I don't know where my parents are. But I'm hoping I'll at least get to June."</p><p>He starts messing with the glove compartment, opening it and closing it, shuffling through it in search of something to distract himself. "But, like... Henry... what do I do if... if she's not there?"</p><p>Henry removes his hand from his shoulder, only to lean forward in the space between the seats so he can see him better.</p><p>Alex meets his gaze, and there's a gentle assuredness to him that eases some of the sharpest edges of his thoughts before he even speaks.</p><p>"Then we'll keep going."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"We'll keep going. We'll go to DC. We'll go wherever we need to. It's going to be okay, Alex."</p><p>Alex chokes on a breathless laugh; it comes out wet. "You <em>mean</em> that?" </p><p>He doesn't realize his eyes are welling up until Henry cups his cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. He must be so uncomfortable, stretched over the seats like that and Alex feels the thought expanding inside of him. He can't be imagining it. No matter how quickly it happened.</p><p>This is real.</p><p>"Of course, love," Henry whispers with a small smile. "Ride or die, right?"</p><p>Alex closes the distance between them, drinking him in with a kiss. He can't believe there was ever a time where this shocked him, much less that it was less than a week ago. Now it feels like they were meant to do this, feels so foolish that they didn't from the start. Henry gasps, parting his lips, and Alex melts under his touch. He cups the back of his neck, guides him closer as he moves to the edge of his seat, the need to be closer burning like fire inside him.</p><p>Fuck, he wishes Henry wasn't injured. Or that they were alone. And maybe not in a car but at least that he could always improvise with.</p><p>It takes a lot out of him to put an end to it. "Wait, baby, wait."</p><p>Henry grunts, pulling away just enough for their lips to part but he presses their foreheads together, staying close.</p><p>Alex grins. "I know Shaan has seen you in a lot of uncomfortable positions but I think he's suffered enough with the two of us."</p><p>"How thoughtful of you."</p><p>As if to prove him right, Henry returns to his seat just as Shaan opens the driver's side door. He passes Alex a plastic bag full of supplies without a word and opens the tank before slipping outside again to fill it up.</p><p>"How has that man not quit yet?" Alex whispers, biting down a laugh.</p><p>"Believe it or not, he's seen worse."</p><p>"Oh? Should I be jealous?"</p><p>"Shut up," Henry scolds, the grin clear in his voice even before Alex spots it through the rearview mirror, delighting at the sight.</p><p>Shaan returns to the car and, apart from asking them if they need anything else, he doesn't mention what he must have seen from the window, nor does he question what they were doing. He instructs Alex to pass some of the food and drinks around. Henry looks disgusted at the idea of eating, yet he doesn't complain once.</p><p>Five minutes later, already on the road, Alex is chewing on an energy bar, trying not to be reminded of his student days' where breakfast sometimes should not have been called that, as he shuffles through the glove compartment again.</p><p>"Hey, there are CDs in here. I still have to make you sing, you know."</p><p>"That's still not happening," Henry calls back immediately.</p><p>Alex flips through the short selection. A smirk spreads on his face when he lands on the perfect one.</p><p>The CD player comes to life, the first few notes fill the car. And he gets to watch as Henry's eyes widen, red spreading across his cheeks. He's got him.</p><p>Alex risks a look towards Shaan as well, hoping he's not annoying him. But Shaan is smiling too, the barest tug of his lips. Oh, he's definitely got him.</p><p>"You like Queen, Hen?" Alex asks, giving him a shit-eating grin from the rearview mirror.</p><p>"I... Yes."</p><p>It takes him three songs to start singing. They start belting out the lyrics to <em>The Show Must Go</em> <em>On</em> together—something about the end of the world really drives the point in. He doesn't expect Henry to continue butchering Freddie Mercury's music with <em>Don't Stop Me Now</em> but Alex takes in every precious, ridiculous second of it. His eyes are glued to him through the mirror. The blush on his cheeks gets more pronounced every time Henry catches him staring but Alex just grins wider, so much his cheeks start to hurt.</p><p>He can no longer ignore the words bouncing around his head. They're too tight around his heart that grows bigger with every missed note, every embarrassed grin that shifts more and more to joyous instead.</p><p>
  <em> I love you I love you I love you I love you. </em>
</p><p>It's the only thought that stays in his mind, nestling there.</p><p>Until his surroundings turn too familiar and all thought is replaced with pure dread too great to leave space for hope.</p><p>They're home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I Liiive. Hahah I did say I'd see you in December. I have NO idea if anyone is still reading this. I hope you are. </p><p>A note before you go:<br/>There is an alternate ending for this story planned. It will be posted right before the epilogue. So it will be about 2 more chapters of main story, the alternate ending and then the epilogue. We're almost done! Just wanted to give a fair warning that that is a thing that's happening.</p><p>Please leave a comment before you go. Let me know someone is still here! You can also yell at me on tumblr @ saltfics! Or both!</p><p>P.S.: You should absolutely not stay near a car fire, the fumes are toxic, I call fic armor for this one. Don't try it at home. XD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. cause I only need your name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b> Important note </b><br/>There is a chapter in my winterfest prompt that is CANON and will be inserted into the actual spot it's supposed to be in this story. I haven't slipped it in yet and you wouldn't want to spend time searching for the extra scene anyway, so you can read it <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845798/chapters/69221526"> here </a> . It will be referenced in the final chapter so, you know, check it out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Austin is ruined. He didn't expect anything different but it still hurts to see. Somehow seeing New York in a post-apocalyptic setting was not that shocking—<em>thanks, Hollywood</em>—but this is his home. And even when the world started crumbling around him, he never managed to wrap his mind around <em> this </em>.</p>
<p>The deserted streets they drive through look surreal, like he's trapped in an odd nightmare from which he can't escape. Running and running, all alone in the world. Black stains are splattered on the pavements, on the side of buildings next to shattered glass, at the bottom of overturned cars like oil-spills.</p>
<p>Henry slips his fingers between Alex's own through the gap between the door and the seat, to remind him he's not alone. Alex squeezes as hard as he can without hurting him.</p>
<p>"I think there are people here..." Henry says, his voice carefully neutral. "Some doorways and windows are not fully blocked. You can see shadows."</p>
<p>Alex knows he should check where Henry's pointing, see for himself, but he can't do anything other than stay still and breathe and try to prepare himself for the worst case scenario. He's never been good at pessimism, and he's paying for it now with a heartful of false hope that could crash down on him at any second.</p>
<p>"Sir, do you know the way?"</p>
<p>"Uh, yeah. Keep going, I'll tell you when to turn."</p>
<p>Alex guides them along, his heart climbing higher up his throat with every turn, until finally, his house comes into view. The car halts to a step a few doors away,  in front of the barred up remnants of what used to be their neighbors' houses, and after a week of driving for this very moment, Alex doesn't want to live through it.</p>
<p>"I can't do this."</p>
<p>"Alex, it's okay..."</p>
<p>"What if they're not <em> here</em>?" He chokes out, tears welling in his eyes. "Or worse, what if they-they <em> were </em>here but they're not anymore a-and all that's left—"</p>
<p>"Hey, hey. Stop it. Whatever awaits inside, it's not going to change by you panicking about this right now. We made it this far. Only a few steps left now, love."</p>
<p>Alex nods. Twice. Then another three times. "You're right. You're right. You're a bit of a hypocrite but you're right."</p>
<p>"I'm trying to help here," Henry huffs, more amused than offended.</p>
<p>He lets go of Henry's hand so he can turn around and face him. "Okay, I'll... I'll go in first. Just in case something's wrong."</p>
<p>"<em>Alex—</em>"</p>
<p>He ignores the protest, shifting towards Shaan instead. "Watch out for him. If it all goes to shit, just take him and drive."</p>
<p>"That's not going to happen!"</p>
<p>"I believe I'm well within my abilities to watch out for you both, Sir," Shaan says, ignoring Henry as well.</p>
<p>"Cocky. I like it. Okay, wish me luck." </p>
<p>He opens the door, and he's halfway out the car before he remembers something. Alex dives back in for one last kiss, chaste but honest. "Just in case there's, like, a Frankie 2.0 in there and murders me, I needed to do that."</p>
<p>"I should come with you."</p>
<p>"Nah." He plants another quick kiss to his lips and hurries off before Henry can follow.</p>
<p>Three steps forward, and he hears the car door open behind him but it's Shaan, standing watch, a gun held lowered in his hands. Close enough to help him, close enough to run off with Henry, too, depending on what happens. It's both comforting and terrifying all at once. </p>
<p>So, all in all, very on brand for the situation.</p>
<p>He hasn't been to this house in three years. He hasn't been home in three years, and there's a chance there's no home left for him in there anymore. But Alex clutches the key through his shirt and crosses the distance to the door.</p>
<p>Unsure of whether anyone is inside or not, and whether he should just barge in anyway, Alex decides to play it safe and... knock first. It feels wrong—and kind of dumb—knocking on his own door, without any guarantee that someone is waiting for him.</p>
<p>But something moves inside. Like a ripple of sound, his knock turns into shuffles and footsteps on the other side. Alex holds his breath.</p>
<p>Then they stop. </p>
<p>No, no, no.</p>
<p>Alex knocks again. Fuck it.</p>
<p>"June? Are you in there?'</p>
<p>Alex jumps when the door is wrenched open, and for the first time in more than two months, his sister is standing there in front of him, staring at him like he's some sort of apparition.</p>
<p>"<em>Alex</em>?" June gasps, a hand flying to cover her mouth. She looks a little worse for wear, with her hair disheveled, cuts and scrapes littering her face. Her left hand is wrapped around the knuckles with a gauge that should be changed soon. But her eyes are bright and filling with tears, and all Alex can really focus on is the sight of her alive and breathing in front of him, everything else be damned.</p>
<p>"Hey, Bug." It comes out as half a smile and half a sob. It doesn't matter either way, for in the next second her arms are around him, her face buried in the crook of his neck and his in her hair, and no words make sense except for the familiar warmth of her, the steady feel of her arms holding him close. "Did ya miss me?" he cries, pulling her closer.</p>
<p>"How—how are you here?" Her voice is muffled against his shirt yet he can feel her trembling and he presses a kiss to the top of her hair.</p>
<p>"You told me to come, didn't you? What? You rescinded your invitation?"</p>
<p>June pulls away just enough to cup his face with her hands, wiping at his tears. "I never thought I'd see you again. I thought—"</p>
<p>"I know. I know. But I'm here. I'm all right, I promise."</p>
<p>"I love you, you <em> idiot</em>."</p>
<p>"Love you too, Bug." He lets his forehead tip forward, pressing against her own. The relief makes his shoulders sag, his legs wobble underneath him. "Shit... June, I missed you so much."</p>
<p>Another voice calls to her from inside the house, and this time, she really has to catch him to stop him from falling over. </p>
<p>"June? Who are you talking to?"</p>
<p>"Mom! Come quick!"</p>
<p>Ellen Claremont shows up at the door, looking like she's aged another four years in the past two months. Her eyes widen when she spots Alex, then well up with tears that quickly spill down her cheeks. Her expression crumbles into a mask of pain but her lips tremble into a grimace of a smile that struggles to take a proper shape. She closes the distance between them in two steps, a sob tearing its way up her throat, and she pulls both her children in her arms, holding them like the world will fall apart around them if she lets go. More than it already has.</p>
<p>"Alex. Alex. My <em> baby</em>. We thought—How did you get here?" Much like June did moments before, she takes a step back to let him breathe, to see his face and take him in. A hand still rests on his shoulder, the other on his cheek. "Are you okay?"</p>
<p>Pent up emotion slips out of him in a breathless laugh that rattles at his chest. "I drove here. And I'm fine." </p>
<p>"You drove here?" June asks, incredulous. "On your own? From New York?"</p>
<p>"I wasn't... alone. But Mom, how did <em> you </em> get here?"</p>
<p>Ellen smiles, that secret, mischievous mom-grin of hers, except it's softened from the fragile hope she doesn't let herself embrace yet. Her hand pushes away the hair from his face, his too long curls falling right back down without delay. "We're all here, sugar. The only one missing was you."</p>
<p>"A-All?"</p>
<p>"June and Zahra were here when this all happened, and your Dad was close-by. I tried—" She pauses, her grip on his shoulder tightening as she shakes her head in disbelief. "I tried to look for you. I promise, honey, I did. We found your- your security agent's... the-the <em> car</em>." Her voice catches, tears springing to her eyes again. "And we thought..."</p>
<p>She breaks into a sob, pulling him into another embrace. June takes his hand behind her back, squeezing tightly. "We thought you were dead," she finishes in their mom's place.</p>
<p>Alex hugs back tighter, pressing a kiss to his mom's cheek. "I'm not. I'm fine. I promise. I'm not even hurt." Speaking of hurt... "But, uh, that said... Do you happen to know any doctors still alive?"</p>
<p>Ellen pulls away, studying him as if searching for signs of damage. "You just said you weren't hurt."</p>
<p>"It's not for me." Alex looks back towards the car. Shaan is halfway in the backseat where Henry is, and Alex doesn't know why he needs to do that but it makes his heartrate double.  "I didn't come here alone. And he's not doing so well—is there a doctor in the 'all' you mentioned?"</p>
<p>June and his mom exchange a look. "Should I go get Leah here? Or are we getting them there?"</p>
<p>"There?"</p>
<p>Ellen ignores him. "Go help Alex bring his friend inside. I'll go fetch Leah."</p>
<p>With a quick nod, June grabs Alex's arm and guides him forward, her eyes searching until she spots the car.</p>
<p>Shaan gets himself out again at their approach, and June frowns when she sees him.</p>
<p>"He looks fine."</p>
<p>"Not the one I'm talking about. Uh, Bug, I should probably tell you—" June turns to him, a question in her gaze, and he realizes there's no roundabout way of saying this. "It's Henry."</p>
<p>"Henry...?"</p>
<p>"Henry."</p>
<p>"Henry who—<em>No</em>," June gasps, staring at him like he grew a second head on the way. "<em>Prince </em> Henry?" she hisses. "Are you serious? How?"</p>
<p>"Dumb luck." </p>
<p>June shoots him an incredulous look and as much as he'd like to revel in the dumbfounded face she's wearing, they have more important things to worry about. </p>
<p>"Look, can we make sure I get to keep him alive first and then laugh about the cosmic powers that made sure Zahra's plans held up in the apocalypse?"</p>
<p>"Look who suddenly cares." June raises her brows at him, before she jogs the rest of the way there. Shaan steps aside for her to open the door. "He really wasn't kidding," she laughs, the sound a little wet, as she peers at Henry inside. "Hi, your Highness. May I offer you a hand?"</p>
<p>"I'm afraid I can't dance with you this time," Henry teases, letting her help him out of the car. "It's good to see you alive and well, June."</p>
<p>"I want to say the same thing but...." June gives him an apologetic smile.</p>
<p>"But the well is debatable?" Henry guesses. He looks over to Alex, tilts his head as if to ask. Alex nods. He's fine. Everything's okay. And June's words return to him, crashing like cold water down his back. <em>Cares</em> doesn't even begin to cover it. </p>
<p>"Do you need any help?" Alex asks, hovering nearby and ignoring the curious look his sister gives him.</p>
<p>"I can walk. I promise," he adds when Alex scowls.</p>
<p>The four of them head inside, and Alex staggers in the doorway, some invisible wall blocking his way to the house. He feels like a stranger, invading his home, his childhood. He's not the person he once was, prodded and molded by his years in the White House, broken to pieces clumsily glued together again by the end of the world. What if the walls he grew up in didn't feel like home anymore? What if they were strange, detached even when he knew all of their angles, like a face of a friend who drifted away? Like a childhood photo whose memory he didn't manage to keep?</p>
<p>But as they move further in without him, Henry turns back, searching, and he can't stand by the door anymore. Home is a place, and a person, and wherever you feel safe. His family is in this town. Henry is in his house, and the place he grew up in will have to learn to reshape itself around him, so it can encompass all of him, all this extra space for love he has opened in his heart to fit one more person inside.</p>
<p>Alex follows after them.</p>
<p>"Alex, you don't mind if we go to your room, right? It's the only one we have left untouched, we—" June clears his throat. "We didn't want to... You're okay with it, right?"</p>
<p>He notices the mess on the floor. Backpacks and food packets, tools and wood for the barricades, various supplies. And yet, it's still not as messy as it should be, considering the number of people his mom mentioned being here, especially if they never touched Alex's room.</p>
<p>"This may come as a shock to you but we didn't stay three rooms away from each other as we travelled together," Alex says. </p>
<p>"That does come as a shock to me," June points out, making Henry laugh.</p>
<p>They try to make the bed usable again, shaking out years worth of dust. Alex moves around his room, his eyes fleeting over mementos of his childhood, never letting himself linger on anything for too long a moment, lest he get stuck in a memory he can never get back. Reminiscing was painful under normal circumstances. When the world has shattered in ways you could never put back, looking back on simpler times could be downright torturous.</p>
<p>"Are you certain this is all right?" Henry asks, bringing Alex back to attention. "I wouldn't want to take up the space—"</p>
<p>"Okay, cut that out,” Alex intervenes with a roll of his eyes. “A, you're sick and B, you're taking, like, negative space, because we're sharing, so."</p>
<p>June goes to laugh, her expression half-frozen into a smile, like a photo still, before she realizes that Alex is not joking. "I feel like you have a story to tell me."</p>
<p>His mom arrives with the doctor then, and the look on her face when she realizes exactly who Alex's travel companion is deserves to be captured in a painting if luxuries such as paintings have any place in their new world. He hopes they will again, someday soon. </p>
<p>Ellen calls him <em> your Highness </em> too, and Henry gets that endearing dusting of pink on his cheeks that has nothing to do with his fever, as he notes that his name will do just fine.</p>
<p>Then Leah ushers them all out of the room, except for Shaan who doesn't make a move to leave and no one has the heart, or the guts, to ask him. </p>
<p>Alex isn't sure when the last time was that his separation anxiety had been quite this bad. With his to-do list slowly running out, he’s building up on nervous energy, and somehow being removed from Henry, from the doctor, from finally a verified opinion on whether he's going to be okay or not, becomes too much to bear.</p>
<p>June links her arm with his and ushers him over to the porch, to take the little sunlight while they still can, away from the stuffiness of the barred-up house. </p>
<p>They sit on the steps of their door, and all his exhaustion comes crashing on him at once. His shoulders sag, his head coming to rest against her as his eyes drop into a half-lidded position. June just cards her fingers through his hair, and she says nothing, even when Alex starts trembling, relief and leftover fear battling it out inside him until he doesn't have a grip on how to feel, just knows that it's altogether too much of <em> something</em>.</p>
<p>It's only when he has mostly calmed down and his breath doesn't rattle in the shape of a sob that she finally asks, her voice gentle, the suggestion as soft as the light breeze. "What happened?"</p>
<p>But there will be time for storytelling later. He'll recount their adventure too many times, in too many ways, and when he does, he would much rather have Henry by his side, holding his hand through this trip through the worst and the best parts of this apocalypse. For now, in this one moment that Henry's not there and he can use that, Alex knows what he has to say, what he needs to ask.</p>
<p>"June?" He whispers, grabbing a fistful of her sweater. "Do you think it's possible to fall in love within a week?"</p>
<p>She freezes, struck silent for a second but there's no judgement in her tone when she finds her response. "If you're asking for the reason I think you're asking... <em> yes</em>." </p>
<p>It's such a simple word but it sends a sigh of relief flowing past his chest, opening ways blocked by doubt. </p>
<p>"You had, well, strong feelings about him before—and considering what you did to my poor magazine, I imagine it was more than just hatred."</p>
<p>"You knew about that?"</p>
<p>"Your greasy little fingertips ruined my cover, Alex." She pulls him tighter against her side. "I don't know what you've been through but you'd be surprised by how strongly you can bond through trauma. And how much clearer things can get when suddenly everything is on the line."</p>
<p>Alex closes his eyes against memories of screaming through a store window, of a voice trapped on the other side. Blood on his hands and tears in his eyes, his hope dwindling even as he prayed for another day.</p>
<p>"Do you really love him?" June whispers. Though he can't see her face from where he's resting his head on her shoulder, he can hear the slight smile in her voice.</p>
<p>Alex's chest hurts, not because it's clenched but because he feels too full, like there's not enough space and it hurts to breathe with so much inside him now. "I really do."</p>
<p>"Did you tell him?"</p>
<p>"He's a dumbass who thinks I only wanted him around to get me here. I'll give him a few days to realize that me getting to Texas didn't change that."</p>
<p>"If you say so," June says but she doesn't sound convinced.</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>His mom wasn't lying when she said everyone was there. His dad shows up minutes later, his embrace strong and a little too tight under normal circumstances, so just the right amount of protective under these ones. He holds him by the nape of his neck, kisses his forehead, his hair, and whispers something in Spanish too quiet for him to hear. Alex thinks it might be a prayer. Or a thank you. </p>
<p>Leo hugs him for longer than he thought he would and the relief is so clear in his eyes, Alex feels almost guilty for not expecting him to care so much.</p>
<p>Zahra comes in, and she holds her posture for a second, until she sees Henry further inside the room. Confusion flashes across her face, then shock, and Alex breaks out his best shit-eating grin. "How's that for good international relations? I just saved the Prince of England from the end of the world."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, you did <em> what</em>?" Henry asks with mock affront, as Alex laughs.</p>
<p>Zahra lets out a string of obscenities but she throws her hands around his shoulders for a brief moment, and though he hears her voice catch around a <em> fucking, </em>by the time she pulls back, her expression is perfectly in place again.</p>
<p>Henry gets more and more uncomfortable under all the sudden attention, all the new and unfamiliar faces around him. He waves Alex off when he apologizes but keeps Shaan close to his side the entire time. Thankfully, everyone warms up to him fast, after the initial shock of seeing him there.</p>
<p>At one point he catches his dad with his hands on Henry's shoulders, bent over to whisper something in his ear. Alex can't know what he said, but Henry smiles a wobbly smile as he nods, his eyes bright with tears.</p>
<p>As the day fades to night, however, they need to quiet down and prepare once more. Even at their destination, they're not yet safe. They're not free, if they will ever be.</p>
<p>His mom offers them a choice. They can spend tonight at the house where the beds are better, the space more familiar, or they can go down in the bunker where at least they won't hear the banging of the monsters trying to get in.</p>
<p>"The bunker," Alex repeats.</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"The <em> bunker</em>."</p>
<p>"Yes, Alex, did you not think we'd have a contingency plan in case of emergency? I mean, we thought nuclear war but..."</p>
<p>"We slept on the <em> ground </em> yesterday and you have a <em> bunker</em>."</p>
<p>They pick the house, anyway. After Frankie and the rest, he squirms at the idea of spending the night with strangers, and Henry could use a good bed again. His mom has to go underground with everyone else but June stays, and so does his dad, and if the world wasn't already broken he would be shocked at his presence in this house again. Shaan, of course, doesn't hover further than a room away.</p>
<p>As promised, Alex settles in next to Henry, and they're too cramped in his childhood bed but neither complains.</p>
<p>Alex tucks himself on Henry's good side, careful with where his hands go around him. They've both showered since coming here, and he’s struck by the scent of what must be his own old shower gel lingering on Henry's skin.</p>
<p>Henry, who has his face buried in Alex's hair, pressing kisses wherever he can reach.</p>
<p>"You're cuddly today," Alex whispers with a smile.</p>
<p>"Says the man who managed to fit the two of us in a single bed." He chuckles quietly when Alex does the same. "How are you feeling, love?"</p>
<p><em> Love</em>.</p>
<p>"Shouldn't I be the one asking you this?" Alex says past the real words stuck in his throat.</p>
<p>Henry holds him tighter. "I'm better. I promise. Headache's fairly dull by now." </p>
<p>Alex still untangles himself just for long enough to reach up and plant a kiss to Henry's temples, a wish for wellness that brings the most tender smile out of him, the softest look in his eyes. Alex wants to drown in it, learn every depth of that crystal blue, every light on its surface, every shadow lurking underneath. </p>
<p>"And then <em> I’m </em> the dork." Henry laughs, his voice hoarse.</p>
<p>"You won't mock me when my healing properties kick in."</p>
<p>"Oh, is that so?" He smiles and <em> there </em> is that light he's looking for, the sparkle in that endless blue. He watches Alex, now balancing on his elbows to see as much of Henry as he can, and a small crease forms between his brows, an uncertainty. "Truly. Are you all right? Is this... Is this all you wanted?"</p>
<p>Alex grins. "It's better. I have you with me."</p>
<p>Henry's lips part in quiet surprise, and Alex knows exactly what he wants to do with them.</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>They spend the next three days in a routine that's almost pleasant. By day two, Leah declares Henry officially infection-free, though he still needs to be careful not to reopen any wounds, and generally try not to get tossed around by any more monsters.</p>
<p>They go down to the bunker. They find Nora there, faking offense at how they didn't come see her immediately, even though they were the ones who drove all the way from New York, while she couldn't take the five minute walk to their house to say hi.</p>
<p>Their mornings are almost normal, wandering outside instead of traveling, showing Henry the post-apocalyptic versions of his old haunts. He hangs out with June and Nora and now Henry too, and they fit together so well. He tries not to dwell on how easy life could have been if he had made Henry an ally from the start, instead of an enemy. How much more time they might have had.</p>
<p>The nights are saved for them, and Alex has learned to ignore the cacophony of horror outside the windows, now that he's finally in a place that feels safe. They have their arms around each other, and he can feel the warmth of Henry's body against him, the steady, comforting beat of that dumb, stubborn heart that got here despite all odds.</p>
<p>And Alex is... content. In a way he never thought he could be again. And the words build up inside of him, threatening to burst.</p>
<p>So, of course, it's on the fourth day that things change.</p>
<p>Morning light filters through the slits between the boards of the window, painting stripes of gold on Henry's face, warm highlights on his outline. Alex, still half asleep himself, watches Henry blink, consciousness returning to him with a petulant groan that makes him smile.</p>
<p>"Morning, sunshine," Alex whispers, his heart fluttering when the discomfort flees Henry's face in response. "Sleep well?"</p>
<p>"We need to get a bigger bed," Henry whines, shifting in his place. As if to prove his point, he moves too much for the space he has, and almost slips off the edge. Alex scrambles up to catch him.</p>
<p>"I was going to tease your royal sensibilities but you might be right."</p>
<p>"How gracious. So what is—"</p>
<p>Before Henry can finish the question, the most unexpected sound fills the air around them. It's so out of place in their new world that it takes Alex a moment to recognize it. </p>
<p>"Dude, is that a—"</p>
<p>"... helicopter?" Henry finishes for him, his accent wrapping too strongly around the word.</p>
<p>They stumble out of bed, barely slipping their shoes on before rushing outside to see what's happening. </p>
<p>Everyone is already gathered there, watching. His mom and dad. June and Nora and Zahra. Agents he doesn't recognize save for their clothes and other curious civilians, some faces more familiar than others.</p>
<p>Shaan slots himself in position next to Henry, an odd expression on his face. He doesn't look concerned, more akin to mildly curious. Amused even. Like he knows something they don't.</p>
<p>"Shaan?" Alex asks, confused. "Do you know what this is?"</p>
<p>"No. But I have a suspicion." </p>
<p>Of course he doesn’t clarify.</p>
<p>There is, in fact, a fucking helicopter on the horizon, making its way over to them. They don't have a landing pad nearby, so they all huddle as close to the house as they can to give the pilot the space they need to land on the street.</p>
<p>"Well!" His dad says, shouting to be heard over the noise. "Can we safely assume that it's a person in there, or did you boys notice any new tricks while you were on the road?"</p>
<p>"One of the fuckers learned to call my name!" Alex yells back, "But no monster honked at us to move out of their way, so we're good, I think!"</p>
<p>"I'm sorry—One of them learned to do <em> what</em>?" June exclaims.</p>
<p>The helicopter finally manages to land, the rotor blades slowing to a stop.</p>
<p>Alex is standing on the very back of the crowd and he has to tiptoe to see over everyone else, but the glare of the sun against the cockpit's window hides the pilot from view. </p>
<p>The side door opens and, perhaps for the first time since Alex has met him, Shaan lets out a short huff of a laugh. The sound startles him so much he almost doesn't hear Henry's breath catch in his throat.</p>
<p>What he does hear is the newcomer's voice, that will take him a moment to place despite the distinct accent.</p>
<p>"Hello."</p>
<p>And what he does notice is the way Henry grasps at his hand, the grip so tight it hurts.</p>
<p>"Has anyone seen my brother?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You all thought you were free of him with Henry stuck in America, didn't you? (:</p>
<p>Listen I'll explain the hows and the whys next chapter. AAAND it <i> might </i> be Henry's POV. I haven't decided but it makes more sense. As a treat c:</p>
<p>Almost done, folks! Hope you enjoy the last few chapters!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. to find the reasons why I fought</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so I gave you <i> half </i> a Henry chapter. Close enough.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the world ended, Henry was stuck in a hotel room with Shaan, contemplating whether their phone friendship could justify him texting Alex to tell him they were in the same country. He had no chance of knowing how much worse his problems were about to be, and certainly not that Alex would somehow end up at his door anyway.</p><p>And from that point to now, he had confessed and cried and screamed, and fell in love all over again. And perhaps it was because the world had tilted over on its axis, but he was kissed and he was held, and for fleeting moments of absolute, perfect peace, he felt loved, as absurd as that may have been to hope for.</p><p>He left that hotel room, hoping that at least, if he was going to die alone and abandoned in a country not his own, then he could do so keeping Alex safe. If he could get him home, get him somewhere where he could be safe and protected and as happy as possible under their circumstances, then he could be at ease with himself, like he succeeded in something that finally mattered.</p><p>Yet somehow, he made it there with him.</p><p>He doesn't understand this, the kind of universe that rip itself in half and let these nightmares flow in, but at the same time grants him something so precious, the kind of beautiful everything he had never allowed himself to hope for himself. Even with the world trying to shatter every night, screams and terror outside their window, he falls asleep in the arms of the man he loves, wakes up with feather-light strokes against his cheeks, or his face buried in soft curls. It's a dream within a nightmare and some days he fears which one is going to end first.</p><p>The absurdness of what he's experiencing has kept going higher and higher, from monsters with a human voice screaming Alex's name, to one standing over him, trilling as he shouted, and yet, though he thought he could not be surprised anymore, he still could never have expected this.</p><p>"Has anyone seen my brother?"</p><p>There's a hand on his back he thinks might be Shaan's, nudging him forward, and the small crowd gathered outside parts for him to pass. Henry doesn't feel himself move forward, guided instead by some invisible force, some gravity born of months of suffering, wondering what happened to his family and tearing himself apart with the knowledge that he could never, ever find out.</p><p>He was wrong. He was <em> wrong</em>.</p><p>He stumbles forward, and Philip turns towards the movement, startling when he sees him. Relief softens his features, a tentative joy he hasn't seen in years, loosens the tension from his shoulders. Philip smiles, a feeble, hesitant thing but it makes Henry pause.</p><p>"Henry..." Philip sighs, taking a step towards him. "You're actually here. I thought I would never find you..."</p><p>Henry closes the distance between them and he hesitates, uncertain of where to go from here. Up closer, the illusion doesn't fade, this mirage of his brother doesn't disappear, so he needs to do something but even when he once imagined finding a way to reunite with his family, he never thought Philip would try to find him.</p><p>Philip starts towards him, catches himself, then whatever implored him to cross the bloody ocean to be here guides him one more step along. Henry freezes just for a second when his brother's arms go around him, before he forces himself to relax in his hold. Some twice locked memory rears its head at him, and he's surprised that Philip smells of smoke and stale clothes, instead of coffee and antiseptic, and even with that it takes him a moment to understand when the last time was that his brother held him quite so tightly.</p><p>He returns the embrace and only when Philip shifts his grip does he realize he's trembling.</p><p>"<em>How</em>...?" Henry asks, his voice catching his throat. "I don't—I don't understand."</p><p>Philip pulls back, a hand coming to Henry's chin, guiding his head from side to side to take in the damage on his face. He pushes back the too long hair, scowling at the large gash above his eye. The gestures are harder than they should be, too appraising, but the concern he regards him with looks sincere. "Are you all right?"</p><p>"I'm... fine. Pip, how did you get here? Why?"</p><p>"Why? I was looking for you."</p><p>"You—"</p><p>Alex steps forward, approaching them slowly with a curious frown. "Hey, man. Sorry to interrupt but I think something is trying to get out of your... um, helicopter."</p><p>Henry turns to look and there's a blurred shadow of something going up and down on the window, a soft thumping sound from behind the closed door. </p><p>Philip lets out a quiet curse and jogs over there. "I didn't notice I closed it," he mutters as he slides the door open, and a tiny fury bolts straight for Henry's legs.</p><p>Henry gasps, leaning down to take the overexcited puppy in his arms, laughing when he paws at his chest, trying to lick his face. David can't stop moving, jumping up and down on his arms, his tail wagging a mile a minute. Henry picks him up, holding him a little too close.</p><p>"Okay, that's not what I thought would come out when I said that," Alex laughs.</p><p>"Out of curiosity, what <em> did </em> you think was going to come out?" Nora questions next to him.</p><p>Philip comes back to stand next to him, a small smile evident on his lips.</p><p>"All right, I understand why <em> you </em>arehere," Henry asks, "but why...?"</p><p>"Beatrice thought he would help me find you. He did not," he states and Henry could swear it sounds almost like a tease. As if he knows they're talking about him, David barks, turning his head to look at Philip. "I suppose it was better than talking to myself the entire way."</p><p>"I thought you didn't like each other."</p><p>David paws Philip's way, mistaking his attitude for discomfort. Philip rolls his eyes. "We don't," he says, scratching the top of the dog's head.</p><p>"Oh, look." Nora grins. "You got an Alex, and he got your dog."</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>"Listen—" Henry interjects, before Nora explains to his brother what that meant. "We should talk."</p><p>Ellen offers them their privacy inside the house but David is restless and even though he won't say it, Philip is too, so they take a walk around the neighborhood instead.</p><p>They're quiet at first, uncertain on how to proceed when they haven't been the talking kind of close in years and the balance between them got rattled along with the rest of the world. Henry steals glances at him, the words always dying in his throat. Philip has also gained a scar from surviving the apocalypse, a line running across the side of his jaw. He hasn't shaved in a while and his dark blond stubble is dangerously close to turning into a beard.</p><p>"So—"</p><p>"You need—" They both start at the same time. "Go on ahead," Philip nods at him.</p><p>"You mentioned Bea before. Is she all right? And mum?"</p><p>Philip sighs, gazing ahead at the empty road. They're walking in the middle of the street, careful to call David back every time he gets too close to any wreckage or those black stains splattered around so many surfaces. "They're alive. They're worried sick about you, though. Beatrice wanted to come with me but mum..." His gaze darkens, the lines drawn deeper into his features. "She couldn't bear the idea of both of us being gone, without knowing if we would ever... make the journey back."</p><p>Henry's heart clenches at the thought. "I am so sorry."</p><p>Philip huffs. "I would like to think you couldn't have possibly known you would get stuck here when you left."</p><p>He stops, grabbing Philip's shoulder to force him to look his way. "Did you honestly come all the way here to look for me?" He shakes his head before his brother has a chance to reply. Questions spill out of him without restraint, the awkwardness giving way to shock, to fear, and there's so much about his brother's arrival that doesn't make sense that his mind drifts to every worst case scenario that could have led him there."You should have stayed with them. You could have died. How would mum—What about your w—Is Martha all right?"</p><p>Philip smiles at the concern in his voice. "She's fine."</p><p>"Then—"</p><p>"<em>Henry</em>." He places his hands on his shoulders, steadying him in place. "We had to know if you were okay. I came here because in case you forgot, I was in the air force so I could fly the bloody plane. Which I did. All the way to New York. Where I—" He throws David a reluctant look—" <em> we </em> found the note that you and Alexander left for Srivastava, so I followed you here."</p><p>"With a helicopter?"</p><p>"Yes. I found it at the airport where I landed. Nobody was <em> using </em> it."</p><p>"Philip, that is-that is <em> wild</em>. Three months ago, you wouldn't let us on the same plane together."</p><p>"Yes, well, I had a lot to make up for." </p><p>Philip cringes the moment he says the words. He turns his eyes away, his jaw set with tension. A flash of hope makes Henry jolt, uncalled for and unwanted.</p><p>"... What did you just say?" he asks when his brother refuses to continue.</p><p>Philip lets out a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair and his too, is long enough now to get too ruffled by the gesture. "Before I left, or rather before I even decided to leave, Beatrice took me aside and... Frankly, she, er, did not hold back," he scoffs, the sound devoid of humour. "But she was right. And—Henry, I'm sorry it had to come to this for me to realize how terrible I've been to you."</p><p>Henry gapes, stammering a response but Philip hasn't finished, and he doesn't know what to tell him either way. </p><p>"But not knowing if you were still alive... it... it was horrifying." He still has a hand on Henry's shoulder, and his fingers dig into his coat, crumpling the fabric. "I'm sorry I let you down." His voice comes out heavier, weighed with emotion Henry does not dare place. "I promised I would take care of you. I will do all I can to make sure I can do a better job at it from now on. I promise."</p><p>They've been standing still for too long and David starts circling their feet, so Henry takes the offered distraction and lowers himself to his knees to pay him some attention. "Whom did you promise?" he asks, his gaze glued on David as he scratches his belly. </p><p>"Dad before he died. Mum after he did. Gran, too, though I fear she may not have meant the same thing."</p><p>Henry scoffs. "I did not want you to take care of me. I wanted you to stop being an arse."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"What did Gran say about you coming here?" David rights himself up and reaches up to lick at his face. Philip doesn't reply. "Pip?" He looks up to see the strain in his expression, and he realizes there was one person he didn't ask about earlier. "Oh."</p><p>Philip kneels down on the ground too, and David is ecstatic at the doubled attention. "I... didn't think I would find you alive," he admits, almost too quiet for the space between them.</p><p>"I didn't think you would find me at all." Henry smiles at him, and it's a weak gesture but it makes Philip relax a bit. </p><p>David jumps with too much force into his arms, pushing against the bandages on his side. The infection has passed but the wound has yet to fully close and he hisses when David all but tries to tackle him. </p><p>David notices his distress and steps back, whining at the sight of him in pain.</p><p>"What is it? What’s the matter?" Philip asks, almost reaching out for him before he regrets it and retracts his hand.</p><p>"Mmm, you almost didn't find me alive," he manages through clenched teeth. "It's fine, I'm fine," he adds when Philip tries to protest. "Although I have to admit, it's hard to believe this isn't some sort of coma dream from the infection. Perhaps I'm already dead."</p><p>"Henry."</p><p>"It is a tad more believable than you crossing the bloody ocean with my dog just to apologize!" He laughs, then gives a good-natured grin at the sourness on Philip's face.</p><p>"Well, I did not come here just to apologize." Henry looks up at him, head tilted in confusion. Realization hits a second before Philip continues, when the dread coils in his gut, the awful uncertainty of having to make a decision you can never take back. "I came to take you home, Henry."</p>
<hr/><p>After Henry wanders away, Alex stays with June and Nora, who make no effort to distract him from the fact that Henry's brother is here. He can't even blame them. Of course, they're going to talk about that; the guy flew from England to America on his own in the middle of the fucking apocalypse. Wait, the dog was also with him. Wouldn't that make a compelling apocalypse movie? Their current situation plays a little fast and loose with the realism but the 'getting there' part would be interesting to watch, if Philip could ever be called remotely interesting.</p><p>It takes them two hours to return and when they do, a shadow has been cast over Henry's features, a quiet storm in his eyes. Alex fears the worst for a moment, until his mom, ever the diplomat, asks Philip how his family faired the apocalypse and he reveals that although they lost the Queen, his mother and sister are doing as well as expected.</p><p>It's surreal the way they all gather for lunch around their old kitchen table. His family, Shaan and Zahra and Nora, Henry and his brother, too many chairs for the small space. In a different, kinder universe this could have been the two of them meeting each other's families. </p><p>"How are things on the other side, your Highness?" His mom asks.</p><p>"I don't believe there's any reason for you to call me 'your Highness' any longer," Philip notes.</p><p>Henry leans over to whisper to Alex's ear. "Is there a way you can prove to me I didn't die a week ago? I am having some trouble believing this is real."</p><p>Trying not to let the idea get to him, Alex raises a brow at him as he runs his hands down Henry's thigh under the table. Henry tenses, clutching at his hand. "I'll think of something," he whispers, grinning at the bright red on Henry's cheeks.</p><p>Philip, thankfully, doesn't notice them. "It is much the same way. Most of the population I've seen have resorted to barricading. Although, we have tried to establish contact with neighboring countries—the perks of being in Europe, I guess—and I know some have found other solutions."</p><p>"You've traveled?" Oscar asks, leaning forward on his seat.</p><p>"Not so much myself, although I did take a short trip to make sure it was possible before attempting to come here. But we have managed to keep contact with a number of other places. Both in Great Britain and the rest of Europe. If you can take off and land within daylight it doesn't matter if you spend the night on a plane, apparently."</p><p>"How did you test that before coming here?" Henry asks. "You said within Europe. Nothing is... quite that far."</p><p>"I did not."</p><p>Alex takes Henry's hand in his when he pales, squeezing tightly.  He tries to direct the conversation towards less guilt-inducing subjects. "So, um, what other methods were you talking about?"</p><p>"Oh, well, some have taken to lighting bonfires to keep them away, especially when the neighboring buildings are not in a good enough condition to house people safely."</p><p>Alex shudders at the memory of that foul-smelling car fire, the way the cold still seeped into his bones from sleeping on the ground in the middle of winter.  The shadows they kept seeing in the corners of their eyes, too far away to hurt them but always in place to remind them they were there.</p><p>Henry strokes the back of his palm with his thumb, gives him a small smile when Alex meets his gaze.</p><p>"And I have heard in some places they use their sound systems."</p><p>Henry freezes next to him.</p><p>"Sound systems?" Ellen repeats, confused.</p><p>Philip nods. "They use massive speakers from concert halls. They play sounds all night to lure them to these places as to keep them away from the habited areas."</p><p>"Sound?" June frowns. "Why?"</p><p>"I am not quite certain what the desired effect is," Philip admits. "But they lived long enough to tell us about it, so they must be doing something right."</p><p>Henry has gone still, save for the blood-stopping grip he has on his hand, but he speaks up. Though his voice is quiet, the words chase away all other sounds on the table. "They want it."</p><p>Everyone turns to him, varying degrees of confusion on their faces. Only Shaan seems to understand, and he nods at him to continue.</p><p>"What's that, kid?" Oscar asks.</p><p>"They want it. They like it, I think. It might—" He scrunches his eyes shut, shifting in his seat. "I think it might be what they're seeking out."</p><p>Alex reaches for him, brushing a few wayward tufts of hair away from his face, hoping to smooth the pained expression he's wearing. "What are you talking about, baby?"</p><p>It speaks volumes about how deep Henry is buried in his memories if he doesn't react to the nickname spoken in front of both their families. Or to the importance of Henry's words, if not a single person in said families reacts to it.</p><p>"I think they're looking for humans so they can make noise. I don't know if they are feeding from it, or-or something else, but they want it."</p><p>"But..." June interjects, her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Why would they kill—"</p><p>"Because we scream."</p><p>The room goes quiet, only looks exchanged with each other, confusion and suspicion, fear. June and Leo look like they want to wave him off but can't in good conscience, not when it clicks with pieces of the puzzle they already have.</p><p>Alex too tries to laugh it off. "Like a baby that plays with a rattle so hard it breaks?" he jokes, and when the thought takes voice, he too realizes it might be less of a joke than he meant it to be.</p><p>"Henry?" Nora calls for his attention, her eyes narrowed, calculating. There's a gleam in her gaze, hungry for all the information he has to give. "What makes you say that?"</p><p>He shifts his weight around on his seat, tensing under the attention, before he turns to Alex. "I first noticed it when Martin died," he tells him, his eyes wide and pleading for understanding. "The two of us were outside but he was the only one shouting. And though they were monsters around us, though I was trying to light a fire which should have made them want to stop me, they surrounded him first. When the fire went up, they backed away and didn't give me a second glance because he was still screaming." </p><p>His voice gets more hurried as he speaks, the words running away from him like someone who has thought this through before but the longer he talks the more things connect right in front of him. </p><p>"It was only after I started yelling too that they turned their attention towards me."</p><p>Henry looks up around him, sees all those eyes on him but the interest he finds, encourages him to continue. "And when we were leaving the house, do you remember?" He says, shifting his gaze from Alex to Shaan and back. "When the monster, the one that always calls your name, when it was over me."</p><p>"It didn't hurt you," Alex mutters. As the memory comes back to him, he realizes where Henry is going with this.</p><p>"Did you say it was <em> over </em> you?" Philip repeats, the blood draining from his face.</p><p>Henry ignores him. "It was above me and when I told you not to shoot it, it stopped."</p><p>"And then you kept shouting," Shaan continues for him.</p><p>"Louder each time," adds Alex. "So you think...?"</p><p>Henry nods. "It was shivering. It was watching me and making noise, as though to respond to me."</p><p>"Are you telling me you had a conversation with a monster that was pinning you down, or did I not catch that?" Nora asks. </p><p>"Conversation is a rather generous term."</p><p>"But you were screaming at each other."</p><p>"Er, yes."</p><p>"<em>Henry</em>," Philip chokes out, staring at him with a look of horror.</p><p>Oscar too, frowns at the story they've just told. "Did you kill it?" he questions, turning from Henry to Alex. "This is... really interesting to examine further, though I hope neither of you tries to pull anything like that again."</p><p>"It worked out okay," Alex shrugs, like a liar, as if his heart didn't twist around itself like a wet rag when it happened. "But we didn't kill it. It just... left."</p><p>"Why?" June and Nora asked at the same time.</p><p>Henry lifted a shoulder too. "We have no idea." He shifts his attention to Alex and his smile spells trouble before he even continues. "If you run into your namesake again, try teaching it more words, see what happens."</p><p>"Yeah, how 'bout I don't though? And don't call him my namesake, you asshole! We're not calling that thing—"</p><p>Then he realizes what Henry has said, and the singular <em> you </em> he used sends his stomach plummeting like a lead weight.</p><p>The others continued their discussion but Alex has lost his focus on the conversation, swept away by the thought that he might be about to have everything swept away from him once more.</p><p> </p><p>Henry returns to Alex's room after dark. He's not quite certain where Philip is going to spend the night, and Alex could honestly not care less, but David sneaks in with them, unwilling to be separated from Henry any longer. </p><p>He understands the impulse.</p><p>He changes into a pair of old sweatpants and an old black t-shirt that has gotten closer to grey from the use. By the time he checks on Henry, he has a borrowed, too short pair of pajamas on and, with his back turned to him, he's just pulling off the shirt he was wearing, revealing the white gauge around his chest. </p><p>Alex approaches, wrapping his arms around the v line above his hips, and he feels the vibration against his chest as Henry hums in appreciation. Alex traces the line of his shoulder with kisses, ignoring how he needs to tiptoe a bit to get there.</p><p>"Hi, love," Henry whispers, placing his own hands on top of Alex's. "You don't seem to be as exhausted as I am."</p><p>Alex stops, yet still rests his head against the back of Henry's shoulders, taking in the scent of him. "You had a long day, sweetheart." His fingers ghost over the edges of the bandage, where the fabric meets the skin. "You feeling okay?"</p><p>Henry takes his hand and turns around, bringing his knuckles to his lips as if to apologize for breaking his hold. "I'm fine, I promise. Everything is going to be all right."</p><p>Alex casts his eyes to the floor, heat rushing to his cheeks but he can't help what he says next nor the hurt the slips into his voice. "Apart from the fact that you're leaving, you mean."</p><p>Henry goes still, his lips parting in shock.</p><p>"Alex, I—"</p><p>"Look, I get it," Alex says, even though he's shaking his head, even if his voice pitches higher, betraying the lie in his words. "I dragged you into a dangerous road trip because I wanted to get back to my family. I just <em> thought</em>—"</p><p>"<em>Alex</em>," Henry insists, taking his face in his hands. "Yes, I told Philip I'll go with him." And though he figured it out hours ago, the confirmation still makes him feel like he's going to throw up. "I also told him that he would either have to bring me back, or teach me how to do it myself."</p><p>Alex puts his hands on Henry's wrists, holding tightly. "What?"</p><p>Henry presses a kiss to his lips, a tender smile staying when he pulls away. "I need to go home. I owe it to Bea and my mum. I need to take care of them, and my country. Otherwise I will never forgive myself."</p><p>"Of course. Hen, I—"</p><p>"Shush, you insufferable man. Let me finish." His smile widens and he tilts his forehead, resting it against Alex's. "I know you understand. But I'm still sorry. I'm sorry for leaving, and I'm sorry that I cannot know when I'll come back." He leaves another kiss just on the corner of his lip, off center. "All I can tell you is that I will. If you'll have me."</p><p>And this is when he should tell him. It's there, hanging on the tip of his tongue. <em> I love you I love you I love you I love you</em>. But he remembers the hurt look on Henry's face when he kissed him after he thought he'd lost him, and it scares him. If Henry thinks he's lying to make him stay, he will never forgive him for it, even if it's not true.</p><p>"You'd better promise me," he says instead.</p><p>"I promise. <em> Come back to me in the morning</em>, isn't that what you said?"</p><p>It's an apt metaphor, Alex thinks. Because he'll never feel at ease again even in the safest mornings, if he doesn't know Henry is alive and well next to him.</p><p>So he takes his hand and guides him to bed, longing for a terrible night to be painted as warm as the softest mornings.</p><p> </p><p>Morning finds him with a hand stroking back his hair, a kiss on his temple. Alex groans as sleep still clings to him, and he hears a quiet laugh, hoarse with sleep. "Go back to sleep, love," Henry whispers, his lips brushing against his skin. "I'll be right back."</p><p>It takes him another hour to fully wake up. And panic. Alex stumbles out of bed, tripping over his own feet as he rushes out of the room. That wasn't a goodbye, was it? Surely he owes him a little bit more than that. He's going to fly to England himself and drag his ass back—</p><p>"Would you rather circle for another seven hours then, Pip?" comes Henry's exasperated voice from the kitchen.</p><p>"No, get <em> off </em> the table, you'll mess everything up." Philip's response makes Alex pause, until he rounds the corner and sees the two of them bent over the kitchen table, a mess of papers between them and David stepping on <em> all </em> of them.</p><p>Henry takes the pup from the table and sets him down, where he runs over to Alex instead, vying for new attention. </p><p>"Hey, buddy, hi," Alex coos, squatting down to give him all the pets he wants. "Good morning. Maybe they should leave you here with me." He looks up towards Henry, for once the joy fleeing at the sight of him. "Hey. Can we talk?"</p><p>Henry turns to Philip. "I'm assuming you can figure this out yourself?"</p><p>He waves him off. "Just go."</p><p>They go through his window and climb up to the roof, much to Henry's dismay, who will apparently stand still with a monster on top of him but can't shake off his caution to let Alex pull him up on the roof.</p><p>"What were you two arguing about?" Alex asks, as he sits down on the edge, watching as Henry does the same.</p><p>"Time zones. Apparently the trip back is not as easy to plan as the trip here."</p><p>"You going to be okay?"</p><p>Henry falls back, leaning his weight against his palms. "It should be fine. We might need to circle for a couple of extra hours."</p><p>"When are you leaving?"</p><p>"This afternoon." He huddles closer to Alex's side, resting his head on Alex's shoulder. "I'm—"</p><p>"Don't be sorry," Alex mumbles, pressing a kiss into his hair. "I made it to my family. You should make it to yours. Just promise me you'll come back."</p><p>Henry reaches to kiss his jaw, and Alex steals one from his lips, feeling him smile in the touch. "I promise."</p><p>Alex cups his cheek, tracing his features with his thumb, connecting the small beauty marks like points on a map. Henry watches him, blue eyes owlish, and he still hasn't learned all the depths of him. He wants to see the summer sun reach his eyes in the morning, soft breeze tousling his hair, from windows open wide to let all the light in. He wants to kiss him under the the stars, no fire nearby, no monsters screaming for his attention. He wants to hold on hope for a reality softer than the one they're living in, a faraway future where they figure it all out and live through it, and he wants to see it through with him.</p><p>Alex uses one hand to pull the chain from his neck, the other wrapped around Henry's waist. He stares at the key in his palm. He feels odd without the weight of it around his neck. Empty. But he doesn't need to be. There's a person in his heart now and he deserves all the space he has to give him.</p><p>"Here." Alex takes the chain in both hands and slips it around Henry's neck, tracing down the length of it until he brushes against the key and finally lets go. "No, listen," he hurries to say when Henry starts to protest. "Keep this. I remember you were a little afraid that I wouldn't want you here when we arrived. Keep it. To remind you that you always have a home here. A place to come back to."</p><p>Henry has tears in his eyes and he takes Alex's face in his hands but before he can kiss him, Alex finally blurts out what he has been holding back for days.</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>That's when he kisses him. And it holds in all the despair for a world that could have been, all the hope for one still theirs to take. Henry's fingers tangle in his curls, as Alex pulls him closer from the waist, pressing against him.</p><p>Then Henry slips against the roof with a small yelp and Alex has to scramble to get a tighter grip on him before he falls. "Shit, wait, no!" Alex laughs, with a handful of his shirt in his hands, lifting higher and revealing a line of his skin at his waist. With his help, Henry pushes himself higher on the roof again, stopping only when he's a safe distance away from the edge, and he falls, limp with relief in Alex's arms.</p><p>"Are you okay? Baby, I'm so sorry," Alex says and though he's still laughing, he refuses to let go of him.</p><p>"Did you mean it?" Henry asks, a huge grin on his face, soft chuckles spilling between his words.</p><p>Alex doesn't miss a beat. "I love you."</p><p>"I love you too." </p><p>"You do?"</p><p>"I am not going to straddle you on the rooftop again," he laughs, but kisses the corner of Alex's mouth when he smiles, "But I love you. I loved you the entire time."</p><p>Alex's smile stretches into the largest grin, even as his eyes are stinging with tears. "And yet you won't straddle me."</p><p>"I have to leave something for when I come back, my love."</p><p>"Hurry back."</p><p>"As fast as I can."</p><p> </p><p>Alex returns to his room that night alone. Worry is lingering in the back of his mind, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. This was exactly the reason why he didn't want to leave Henry alone in the hotel. Until he manages to return, Alex has no way of knowing if he is even alive. But if he has seen anything through their road trip together is how amazing Henry is, brave and smart, and if Alex can somehow make it home, Henry can certainly find his way to him.</p><p>And if he didn't believe it before, when he returns to his room, he finds something that reminds him of it. Henry is smart and he is brave and he was kind enough to leave a small journal on his desk with a small post-it attached to it.</p><p>
  <em> I said I would not read it to you. You never asked to read yourself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -Love, H </em>
</p><p>He almost vows to keep the little post-it safe until Henry comes back, before he flips through the book and lands on a page dog-eared for him.</p><p><em> Alex</em>—</p><p>it starts, and he begins to read. He reads through the tears in his eyes that he can taste on his tongue, through a smile that hurts his cheeks. By the time Henry comes back, Alex will have memorized the short letter, every word spoken in a hundred different ways in his mind, always in his voice. It helps him hold on to the memory, the way his accent curls around his words, the way his face softens when he calls him <em> love </em>. He holds on to all the little keepsakes hiding in his writing, until the day he can finally see the real him again and realize how short his imagination falls. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Is that not what you meant when you said you wanted Philip to leave—?</p><p>I kid. We still have the epilogue. But FIRST we have the alternate ending, which will be uploaded um soon-ish? I have it written I'm just trying to decide if it's worse to end 2020 on that note or start 2021 with it XD But I will say that it's 9 freaking thousand words because I have no self-restrain whatsoever.</p><p>Speaking of long chapters, this was almost 6k so please let me know what you thought of it! We have only one canon chapter left now!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. * remember love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i> Alternate Ending. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Picks up from the beginning of chapter 11 after Lisa leaves.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b> Warnings Apply </b> Check the notes at the bottom of the chapter for the specific warnings!!</p><p>Happy New Year, y'all! We're starting the year, um, fun.  Hope you like it?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Alex tries waking Henry up that morning but when the first few calls of his name lead to nothing but a small frown on his forehead, he opts to let him rest instead. He looks like he needs it, the marks under his eyes dark as bruises, hollowing him out.</p><p>He helps Shaan make breakfast and, after saving some for Henry on the side, they eat with tense small talk that only gets slightly more comfortable with time. Shaan tells him about what he did on his own and how he found them, while Alex tries to recap the past few days on the road for him, everything from meeting in the hotel to Frankie and Dan. Well, almost everything. Despite Shaan’s track record with discretion, somehow his and Henry’s budding relationship doesn’t seem to be in the need-to-know category. Shaan is quiet, too, during his story, and Alex can’t help but wonder if he blames him somehow for what happened to Henry. After all, Alex is the one who dragged him out of that hotel. It might have been terrifying but he seemed to be doing just fine before Alex barged into his life to rob him of his supplies.</p><p>Then again that might be his own guilt tainting his interactions bleaker and more pointed than they were. Shaan doesn’t seem the type to hold that kind of grudge.</p><p>“Well,” Shaan says, straightening his mug of coffee in front of him. “I commend his bravery, if nothing else. Not to mention the quick thinking.”</p><p>And isn’t that the worst thing? Henry is impossibly but <em> clearly </em> better equipped to deal with whatever the hell this broken world throws his way than Alex. He’s the one who survived the night alone. He’s the one who noticed the fire. Who managed to navigate the hellhole of a hotel all by himself. And yet, because of Alex’s dumbassery, he’s the one who might not—the one who’s in danger the most.</p><p>Hurried, thumping footsteps from the other room have Alex bolting from his seat to see what happened, Shaan quick on his tail. He bursts in the room just in time to see Henry stumble into the bathroom. He tries to kick the door closed behind him but Alex can still hear the sounds of violent retching that sent his own stomach all the way up his throat.</p><p>Alex rushes into the bathroom after him, falling to his knees next to where Henry is kneeling with his head bent over the toilet bowl. Alex places a hand on his back, rubbing up and down for the little comfort he can give, the other pushing sweat-soaked blond hair away from his face. His forehead is burning too hot. Alex struggles to keep his breathing steady, the panic at bay.</p><p>Henry gasps between now dry heaves, swaying slightly. Alex coaxes him to fall back in his arms with gentle movements, continuing to stroke his hair back. Shaan hands him a wet towel, and with a grateful nod, Alex uses it to wipe away at the sweat on his face and the back of his neck. "Sh, sh. It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay," he says, pressing a kiss to his temple. His skin burns too hot, and Alex holds him tighter against him. "Shaan, he's burning up."</p><p>"I'll get the thermometer. Can you get him back to bed?"</p><p>Alex nods but Henry grunts, shaking his head. "I can't. I <em> can't.</em>" Henry turns his face into the crook of his neck, breathing in small huffs of air.</p><p>"Dizzy?" Alex asks, scratching softly at the back of his head as Henry slowly relaxes against him.</p><p>"I just need a moment."</p><p>"All the time you want, baby," he says but for the first time he wonders if he might be lying. "Shush... you're okay."</p><p>They make it back to the bed after some time, with Henry leaning heavily against him. He's pale, too pale, even for him. His fever can't help his color at this point. He groans when he lowers himself down on the bed, his eyes closed, scrunched up in pain.</p><p>"Easy. Breathe..." Alex whispers, keeping his voice down in case that could help his headache. "I'm sorry, Hen, I wish I could help you..."</p><p>"Alex..." Henry mutters, his voice hoarse, devoid of emotion. "I don't think this is from you."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"Remember the worst case scenario?" he huffs. His head must be settling down for his features relax, the lines receding from his face. He blinks his eyes open, searching for Alex. "I think..."</p><p>"Don't." The word snags somewhere in his throat, coming out too choked. "Don't do this, Henry."</p><p>"It's not a choice, love."</p><p>"Maybe it's just one of those things that will get worse before it gets better."</p><p>"Maybe..." Henry sighs, clearly only for his benefit. "Can we leave? Leave now?"</p><p>"Go where?"</p><p>"Texas. To get you home. I want to make it there."</p><p>Alex climbs up on the bed next to him, guides him into his arms. "Henry, we can't go anywhere with you this sick. We'll wait for you to get better."</p><p>"What if I don't?" He feels the words pressed to his skin more than he hears them, his voice too quiet but it's loud in Alex's head for it brings up something that was lurking into his own mind for days and the echo is resounding.</p><p>The lie spreads like poison through his veins, and he hates himself for it. "You will."</p><p> </p><p>Henry doesn't get better. His fever spikes. The antibiotics are clearly not working, and the antipyretics barely help. The infection settled too fast, which should have been the first sign, and it progresses even faster. By the next morning, Henry is  burning from the inside out. It's hours upon hours of forcing him to drink and eat to no avail, and switching cold cloths that get warm too quickly to help. Alex stays with him most of the time while Shaan takes care of a practical aspects. He's never been more grateful for his presence. He would never be able to do this alone.</p><p>Alex squirms in bed, uncomfortable. Henry's body is a radiator in his arms but he can't bring himself to let him go. He's caught in a fitful sleep, his breaths coming in short, tortured huffs that crack through his heart, one piece at a time. His face is contorted in pain, and he shifts and turns too often.</p><p>He can't remember how long they've been stuck in this house. It's probably been less than a week but it feels as though they've stayed there for ages, waiting for a better outcome that will never come.</p><p>Henry groans in his sleep, then gasps. Alex sits up straighter. He starts muttering something, still asleep.</p><p>Alex starts carding his fingers through his hair, murmuring sweet nothings to his ears, hoping not to wake him, just to calm him down enough to get some rest.</p><p>Henry's eyes flutter open but they're glazed over, unseeing. He's full on panicking now, almost hyperventilating, his hands reaching around, grasping at whatever he can touch. "No, no, no... no, I'm sorry, please no..." Henry whimpers, shutting his eyes, letting tears slip down from the corner of his eyes straight to his hairline. </p><p>"Baby? Baby, it's okay. You're safe. You're safe. You're here with me. I got you. I got you. No one's going to touch you here."</p><p>"No, no, <em> no...</em>" he groans, turning away from him. "Please, I'm sorry."</p><p>"Henry, hey. Henry." Alex gets on his knees. He takes Henry's face in his hands, tapping gently on his cheek. "Look at me. It's okay, look at me. You're safe. Look at me, baby. I'm here."</p><p>"I don't want to be here.” His hands grasp at Alex’s arms, tugging him closer, grasping for life. “You can't just <em>leave</em> me here."</p><p>"No one's leaving you anywhere. Henry, please look at me. Hey. Hey. What's wrong?"  He taps him with more urgency though careful not to hurt him. Henry finally looks at him again, and though his eyes are still not fully connecting, he seems to register his surroundings a bit more. "Hey. You're stuck somewhere, Henry. It's the fever. But it's not real. You're safe. And I'm not going anywhere."</p><p>Henry stares at him, clutching at his arm as he starts to calm down. "I'm <em>sorry</em>," he gasps, horror overtaking his expression once he realizes where he is. "I'm sorry."</p><p>"It's okay. Are you all right? Do you want to talk about it?"</p><p>"No. No." He shakes his head. His lips are parted, still breathing hard, his forehead is glistening with sweat.</p><p>"<em>Henry</em>," Alex pleads, and he knows it's unfair to ask anything of him but he's desperate to be of help when he knows there's nothing he can do to take his pain. "Talk to me."</p><p>Henry keeps shaking his head no, wiping at his eyes. "It was just a nightmare. It doesn't matter." </p><p>Alex leans down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, his heart clenching at the heat he finds there. He's not getting better. He's not. He's not. And he doesn't know what to do. He bites on his trembling lips, hiding his face on the crook of Henry's neck, like that could hide how hard he's trying not to cry.</p><p>"Alex?" Henry asks, pushing him backwards to see him better. Their eyes meet, glimmering with the fresh start of tears for different reasons, and Alex wants to steal all the sadness away from his gaze and carry it himself but he <em> can’t</em>. He can’t protect him from a single thing, not the sickness, not even some of the sadness that lingers in his eyes. “What...?” Henry trails off but brings a hand to Alex’s hair, tangling in his curls.</p><p>"Tell me what's wrong," Alex begs and Henry must understand this time, because he finally relents.</p><p>"I've... had this dream since I was younger,” he starts, his voice careful. “My grandmother never approved of me. And... this might sound silly but... I always had this nightmare that one day she would just lock me up in a tower like a fairy tale and never let me out."</p><p>Alex lifts his gaze to look at him, tears stuck stubbornly in the corner of his eyes. He can’t know if Henry is telling the truth or if he doesn’t want to admit that he’s scared. That they’ll leave him there alone. No matter how many times he’s begged for it, Alex has always caught him trembling slightly at the thought. "I'm sorry."</p><p>Henry runs his thumb along his cheek. "It's just a nightmare, love,” he says but his voice is thick behind his words.</p><p>"You know..." Alex forces a smile that can't hold its shape. "Fairy tale princes get their happy endings.” This is all he has for him. Empty promises, sweet words and his presence, and all he can hope is that even if it’s not enough it will at least be something, and bring him some comfort when he needs it the most.</p><p>"Someone hasn't read the original fairy tales."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"You don't want to know," Henry chuckles. Then the expression freezes on his face, his eyes darkening with a thought he doesn't share but Alex understands it anyway. His smile falls, brows furrowing. What about their ending?</p><p>"Henry, I—"</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>Alex's breath halts in his chest. "What?"</p><p>He's paler than before, and Alex doesn't know if it's the illness or a fresh wave of fear he won't admit. His smile wobbles but he cups Alex's cheek with more softness than he thought possible, stroking the arch of his cheekbone. "Thank you. For the adventure."</p><p>Alex shakes his head, uncomprehending.</p><p>"You didn't notice? Locked in an abandoned hotel, until an absolute arse of a knight in shining armor came to steal all my food. There were monsters slain. Or rather, torched"—he grins—"and villains battled. Whichever our ending, love, this was a fairytale. And I'm so grateful for it."</p><p>By the end of it, Alex is crying, and Henry reaches up, kissing away the tears on his cheeks. "Only you could romanticize the end of the world."</p><p>"It's a prerequisite for being a prince."</p><p>Alex laughs and he buries himself in Henry's arms, secretly hoping that maybe, if he holds on hard enough, the world will not dare take their happy ending for them. There has to be some mercy, some fairness even in a reality this broken, and if they got this fucked up fairytale, they'll get to keep the happily ever after too.</p><p> </p><p>In the next few days, all talks of fairytales are long forgotten. Henry gets worse. And worse. And <em> worse </em>. He spends his days begging Alex to leave, to go on ahead so he doesn't have to witness any more of this. And he spends his nights in the grips of his fever, barely aware of where he is, pleading between sobs that he won't leave him, that he's scared and he can't do it alone. And Alex stays with him for as long as he can, holding him close, pushing sweat-soaked hair away from his eyes, and he lies, promising that everything is fine. And if sometimes he has to leave the room, to hide in the bathroom or the hall, bury his face in something and cry, then it doesn't matter because by the next bout of consciousness that gets more and more spaced out, Henry won't remember it anyway.</p><p>Shaan is losing his mind too. He can't grasp at the idea that there's something he can't protect him from, no solution that will save the one person he has promised to keep alive. He disappeared for three days at one point, leaving a terrified Alex in his wake, and came back with blood on his shirt and medical supplies from the nearest hospital they could find. IVs with antibiotics, fresh bandages. The fever refused to break. And much like the fairytales they spoke of, Alex felt as though his prince slipped away from him into a winter's sleep, and every time he closes his eyes, the exhaustion is so deep in the hollows of his face that Alex is not sure he'll wake up.</p><p> </p><p>His bones are heavy with fatigue as he makes his way to the bedroom, and if he feels this shitty while he's healthy he can't imagine what Henry's going through. The room has gotten a rank scent no matter how often they change and wash the sheets and they offered to move him more than once but he refused, even if he's barely aware of where he is most of the time.</p><p>Alex finds him where he always is, shivering under a pile of blankets on the bed. His back is turned to him, facing towards the partly unblocked window, and he’s so quiet, Alex almost mistakes him for asleep but he’s spent enough time with him to know what his breath sounds like when he's resting, what his presence feels like when he’s awake.</p><p>“You should have taken me to Texas…” he mutters, his voice quiet and hoarse. He always sounds like that now, always a bit dehydrated, his lips parched no matter how often they force him to drink. Whatever he doesn’t puke, he sweats. Alex can’t remember the last time he saw him crying actual tears, even though he often seems to be in enough discomfort to justify them.</p><p>Alex climbs on the bed behind him, stroking his hair back in hopes of coaxing him to look at him. Henry doesn’t react. “You were in a bad shape, baby.”</p><p>“I wanted to see it,” he continues like he doesn’t hear him but it's the most coherent he's seen him in a while. “I’ve never been.”</p><p>Alex leans down, planting a kiss on his temple, ignoring the heat radiating from it. Henry sighs, his body relaxing under Alex’s careful touch and still the sound is too short, too shallow, his breathing no longer what it should be. “It wouldn’t be the same,” Alex whispers on his skin. “Not to how it used to be.”</p><p>Henry finally turns to face him, his eyes not entirely focused. “I still... wanted to see it. I wanted to—” He lifts his hand to catch Alex’s face and Alex holds it there immediately, giving himself the weight of it. His touch burns against him in ways that have nothing to do with the fever. “I wanted to take you. Home.” Henry’s face crumbles in pain. But he won’t cry. Can’t. “Make it home. I wanted to see.”</p><p>“Henry…”</p><p>“I want to tell you to leave,” he says, so softly, uncaring of how tight his hold is around Alex’s heart, how hard he’s pulling. “I want to be the... person who could tell you. So you wouldn’t see… this. The rest of this.” His thumb brushes across Alex’s cheeks, and Alex closes his eyes, kissing the inside of his palm. He's learned to understand him again days ago; his emotion always translated despite the occasional jumble in his words. “But selfish as I am. I’m glad. I want this time... With you.”</p><p>“You’re not selfish. And you wouldn’t get me to leave no matter how hard you tried.”</p><p>Henry’s strokes against his lower lip, sending a shiver down Alex’s spine. He leans down as though he was asked, stealing a kiss from his lips, relishing in the feeling of the smile on his breath.</p><p>“I don’t regret it,” Henry whispers. “I want you to know this.”</p><p>Alex tenses, his nails digging into the mattress. He pulls back just enough to be able to look at him as he speaks, careful to keep his expression blank.</p><p>“I mean it,” he insists. And his eyes are alight with a consciousness he hasn't seen in days, and for the first time Alex hates the sight of it there because more than anything right now, he needs him to shut up. “I am sorry it took us this... <em> long </em> to talk. About. About things. That I was so daft—I made you dislike me." Henry scrunches his nose, the discomfort showing on his face as he chokes on cough. "I regret. It took us this long. But not <em> this</em>. I am so grateful you… you forced me out of that hotel room,” he smiles to show him he’s teasing but the wording still makes Alex’s stomach twist with guilt. Henry lowers his voice, a soft, precious smile on his face that Alex can almost believe is real. “I don’t care if it lasted so little. I don’t care if it ends here... Having this time with you… it was worth it. Truly.”</p><p>Alex’s hands are trembling, his frame shaking as he struggles to hold himself up on the bed. “Stop it. Henry, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about. You're not well.”</p><p>Henry frowns like he doesn’t understand, like he didn’t just discard his fucking life like an afterthought for something as dumb as Alex’s personal escapade. Like Alex hasn’t spent days agonizing over why he didn’t just stay in the hotel with him, why he forced him to do the stupid, reckless, dangerous thing <em> he </em> wanted to do and got him killed. </p><p>“Alex…”</p><p>“What the fuck? Why would you say that?” He withdraws from him, his heart breaking when Henry starts to reach for him but regrets it, tucking his hands at his own side instead. “Are you kidding me? You don’t regret dying? For the pleasure of my fucking company? Shut up.”</p><p>“I meant—I know this is... bad but—”</p><p>His head is spinning, his anger mixing with his guilt and the grief and all the horrors and stresses of the past few days until he doesn’t know what he’s saying until it’s far, far too late to soften the words that come out wrong.</p><p>“Henry, if it meant you’d be alive and well out there somewhere, I promise you I’d much rather we never even met!”</p><p>It’s not a lie, yet he regrets it the moment it slips away from him, for he sees Henry’s face contort in pain, the break deeper, harsher than any physical pain he’s had to endure. His eyes are wide with hurt, and so, so very blue and somehow, impossibly, they well up with tears. He tries to blink them away but they just spill in twin trails down his cheeks.</p><p>“Henry…” Alex sighs, his anger leaving with his breath, too weak in the face of his hurt to hold on to it. “You know what I meant… I just want you to be safe. Don’t you? Why would you say that? Why would you even think—”</p><p>“Because I love you.”</p><p>Alex shakes his head, his heart too high in his throat let him speak, pain tangled like roots around his lungs.</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>"You're sick," he croaks out, like he's the one who can barely breathe.</p><p>Henry sobs, looking at him, begging with blue eyes too clouded, for him to understand. "The entire <em> time</em>," he says and there's an emphasis there but he doesn't get it. "I love you."</p><p>Alex bolts to the bathroom, ignoring the calls of his name. He kicks the door closed behind him, a resounding thud that must break Henry's heart but he can't deal with that too, as he falls down to his knees over the toiler bowl and empties his stomach, his own sweat mixing with his own tears and how has Henry endured through all of this? It feels like he's spilling out everywhere, his body torn open and bare to be picked apart.</p><p>It takes him twenty minutes to calm down enough to head back to the room and in that time Henry has fallen back asleep, a permanent frown on his features, his breath too shallow for one supposed to be at ease. And as he watches him struggle even in rest, as he feels his heart crack inside his chest, Alex realizes what he meant to say.</p><p><em> I loved you the entire time</em>.</p><p>And maybe it's the illness or maybe Henry meant every word. It doesn't matter. He climbs up the mattress and pats him gently on his cheek, knowing he shouldn't wake him but he's <em> scared</em>, he's truly scared every time Henry drifts off into sleep and he will never live with himself if he doesn't say it.</p><p>Henry barely opens his eyes towards him, a low moan building in his throat, and Alex has no idea if he really hears him when he whispers the confession like a wish in the dark. "I love you too." But Henry smiles, a weak tug of his lips, a spark of joy and recognition in his eyes, and Alex hopes with everything he has that he'll be able to hold on to the memory, as tight as Alex is holding on to the feeling tearing at his chest.</p><p> </p><p>Just because he sees it coming, doesn't mean he's ready for it.</p><p>Alex wakes up to something shifting on the bed and it takes him a moment for his eyes to focus, then to stumble to his feet because Henry is <em> moving </em> and somehow trying to get off the bed.</p><p>"Baby, what are you doing? Hey." Alex rounds up the corner to the other side of the bed, stopping just in front of him. "Henry, <em> hey</em>."</p><p>Henry pushes himself to his feet, swaying in place and Alex doesn't want to push him back on the bed but he will if he takes another step. His eyes search for Alex yet even when they find him, they don't connect, his gaze glazed over. He mumbles something Alex can't catch, and only when he repeats it louder does he realize it doesn't sound like words at all.</p><p>Alex takes his face in his hands, trying to get him to focus. "Henry. <em> Hey</em>. Look at me. Let's get you back to bed, yeah?"</p><p>Henry shakes his head. He reaches for the hand on his cheek, his movements clumsy, off-target. He looks at him and for just a second, realization brightens his gaze. "I... I—"</p><p>Then his eyes roll to the back of his head and he crumbles down like a doll cut from his strings.</p><p>Alex scrambles to adjust his grip and he barely manages to catch him by the waist before he falls to the floor. "Fuck, fucking shit!" Henry's head falls back, his spine arched like a bow, held only by Alex's shaking arms. "Shaan! <em> Shaan</em>!" he screams, his voice cracking.</p><p>He bites his lip so hard it bleeds as he has to jostle Henry to get a better grip on him with one hand, so he can bring the other to his shoulders and pull him closer, cradling him in his arms. "Henry, Henry, <em> please</em>." With Henry's head resting against his chest, he taps at his cheeks, pushes his hair away from his face. "Sweetheart, baby, please," he sobs. His eyes are open in thin slits, only the whites showing and Alex feels his heart pump so heart against his chest he feels like it needs to get out. "Open your eyes. I beg you. Please. Wake up. <em> Wake up! </em>"</p><p>Shaan bursts in the room, and he hesitates only for a second in the doorway, something cracking in his expression as he rushes over to help. And it's the way he doesn't bother to pull himself together anymore that really drives the fear in, cold and piercing like a nail to his heart. </p><p>Shaan takes Henry's legs and together they get him back on the bed. Alex climbs next to him on the other side. He continues tapping and pleading and yelling at him to wake up, while Shaan checks his vitals the best he can, his pulse, his breathing.</p><p>"Henry, <em> please</em>. Something, anything. Just open your eyes, <em> please</em>." He turns to Shaan, his eyes wide and pleading and something inside him shatters at the look he's wearing. His face is pinched with pain and at the sight of the despair painted across Alex's face, he closes his eyes, lowering his head in remorse.</p><p>And he knows this is it. The moment where the tightrope they've been walking for days, for weeks, since the first moment he found Henry slumped over on the side of the building finally stretches too thin.</p><p>The moment it snaps.</p><p>"We need to do something," Alex cries, reaching over Henry to grasp at the fabric of Shaan's suit. "There has to be something we can do."</p><p>"There is." Shaan nods. "You can hold him."</p><p>Alex freezes, his fingers going numb where they're curled around him. The coldness spreads all over him and when it reaches his shattered heart, the frost makes cliffs out of his cracks, a map carved out in fault lines and breakage.</p><p>Slowly, he retracts his hold, then lowers himself down on the bed and, with Shaan's help, whose touch has never been so feather-light, they guide Henry into his arms, his head resting slightly tilted on his shoulder, tucked under Alex's chin.</p><p>For a moment, he thinks Shaan will leave but he takes a seat down on the floor, not even bothering to grab a chair, or maybe he just doesn't want to look at Henry while it happens, and he takes his hand in his own, holding tight.</p><p>They don't exchange a word.</p><p>Henry's breaths get shallower with time. He wakes up only once, and he doesn't speak though he looks almost there with them, blue eyes wide open and searching. Alex looks at him, pulls him tighter against his chest and he finds the air to speak past the lump in his throat, fights to see him through the constant blur of tears in his eyes.</p><p>"Hey, sweetheart."</p><p>And he makes every word count.</p><p>"You are so loved," he says instead of "I love you", because Shaan is still standing watch next to them. Because maybe there's a family in England that will never get him back and a family in Texas that lost him before they even had him.</p><p>"Thank you for keeping me safe," he says instead of "I'm sorry" for he's grateful beyond compare even when that deepens the sharp edges inside of him, hacks at parts of him already broken. He knows apologizing will only sadden him and Alex desperately needs him not to be sad.</p><p>"We'll be okay," he says instead of "you'll be fine" because he is <em> so </em> tired of lying to him, and Henry has never cared about himself more than others anyway.</p><p>And then because he can't stop himself, and because it's true and he needs to say, he fixes the first one too. "I love you."</p><p>Henry has been breathing through parted lips for a while now but they shift in shape now, even if the only sound that comes out is still just a rattling breath. Maybe he says I love you back. Maybe he tells him it's okay. Whatever it is, Alex uses all his strength to nod and smile at him, and the frost warms over when he sees the gesture mirrored in Henry's face, the turn of his lips remaining even as his eyes drift closed again.</p><p>It takes another thirty minutes for his breaths to really start catching in his chest. Three more for a blueish tint to spread to his lips as he grows paler. At least Henry remains unconscious, a small mercy he will forever be grateful for despite everything else. Alex looks over at Shaan who has turned to see when he heard the sound but he just shakes his head at him. Alex can't even be mad at the man. The grief is already written on his face, and most of all, he understands. They cannot save him. Helping him now, if they can do anything at all, will only prolong this.</p><p>So Alex does the one thing he can do. He holds him. He holds him as he struggles to breathe and he holds him when his back arches. He keeps holding him as he shudders and he stills, quieting down in his embrace.</p><p> </p><p>(<em>He holds on tighter when he's the one who can't breathe, the screams too consuming to leave room for air, and there's a body in his arms who can no longer hold him back, no matter how close he keeps him against his chest, or how many tears he spills into his hair.</em>)</p><p> </p><p>They should have tried going to England instead. Or at least gotten him to fucking Texas. Because the only thing that hurts more than the fact that Henry—that he's fucking <em> gone </em> is the fact that they have bury him in the middle of damn nowhere, in a place that had nothing for him but pain. But they can't properly cremate him without equipment and they can't carry him with them. So they bury him, if only so the monsters don't get to him instead, even if they've already won, they already <em> took </em> him, and they make a compromise.</p><p>Take the ring, Shaan says. Bring it to Texas. Or I'll find a way to get it home.</p><p>Which is how Alex ends up with Henry's signet ring hanging from the chain around his neck, resting on a spot over his heart, two heavy weights next to each other.</p><p>He wishes Lisa had taken their car instead of Shaan's, so he doesn't have to finish this journey on the car he and Henry had. The absence hurts like an open wound, raw and still bleeding, hurt spilling out of him with nothing to keep it closed. Twice now Shaan has had to help him breathe, once in the house after their makeshift funeral, once in the car when he fell asleep and upon waking he forgot himself. He turned to the driver's seat, words of endearment partway formed on his lips and the truth came crashing on him like a wave, sweeping his feet from under him until he was lost.</p><p>But somehow they make it to Texas. Shaan refuses to leave him until they do. It's what Henry would have wanted, he says, and Alex is too tired to refuse, too weak to think he could really make the last leg of this journey alone.</p><p>They stop in front of his house and Alex grips the ring through his shirt, sending a silent apology, and a thank you to Henry for everything he did to get him there. The fact that he can't see the soft smile they would have brought tears him open again. He refuses to consider that there's a point in his future when he won't remember what it looks like.</p><p>Alex knocks on his door and when his sister answers there's no time for her to be shocked he's there, for the relief cracks through the last walls of his composure and he stumbles in her arms, his whole body wracked with sobs.</p><p>"It's okay. It's okay. What happened? You're okay. You're home. You're safe."</p><p>June lowers them to the ground, and holds him tight, and at the place that was supposed to be his destination, his safety, Alex misses Henry like a home.</p><p> </p><p>Alex is broken.</p><p>The walls around him have cracked, and cold seeps so deep into his bones he fears he'll never get it out.</p><p>He spends the next few days in his bed. With his to-do list completed, his purpose gone, there's nothing left to do but grieve. His family tries to help even when they can't know exactly what happened. Shaan stays with him too but when Alex refuses to explain what's wrong, Shaan decides to keep his secret too. Still, there comes a time when he forces himself out of bed, and he closes his grief inside a box that he keeps tucked inside him. He can't keep doing this to them, can't keep hurting them the way he's hurt.</p><p>And that's when the impossible happens, and he knows for sure now that this universe hates him. Meeting Henry in the hotel was nothing but a cruel joke, creating broken hearts in a broken world. </p><p>Shaan is at his side when the helicopter lands on the street in front of them, so he gets to see the shock ripple through his face, the flash of shame before his expression closes off completely. And he doesn't understand until the door opens, and Philip Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor climbs out, a hesitant hope in his eyes as he searches their faces one by one for that of a person he'll never get to see again.</p><p>His eyes catch on Shaan's face, and the relief that crosses through his features makes Alex's stomach twist. This can't be happening.  "Oh, Srivastava. You're here." He can't have made it here. Philip can't have made it here when his brother failed. "Where is Henry?"</p><p>June's head snaps to Alex, her expression twisted in a mask of shock as she finally understands. What Alex is hiding. What destroyed him so.</p><p>And because the universe has yet to stop laughing, a dog jumps out of the helicopter and makes a beeline straight for Shaan, jumping excitedly at his legs, pawing at him, his little whines asking the question nobody wants to answer.</p><p>Shaan looks down at the pup then back to Philip and Alex sees his hands clench into fists at his sides. "Your Highness, I—"</p><p>Alex can't take it anymore.</p><p>"It's my <em> fault</em>," he says before Shaan can finish, his voice catching in his throat.</p><p>Philip turns to him, frowning in confusion.</p><p>Alex steps forward, ignoring how badly his legs are shaking underneath him. His mom reaches out for him, having caught on but he raises a hand to stop her. "I'm so sorry. I'm <em> so </em> sorry, Philip."</p><p>Philip's face goes slack, grows colder with shock. "Excuse me?"</p><p>"I-I was with him. I was with Henry. We tried to get here together from New York." His gaze falls, his hands wrap around his chest so he can hold himself together for just a bit longer. "He-He didn't—" He forces himself to meet his eyes. He owes Henry's family that much. "He didn't make it."</p><p>Philip staggers back as if struck, already shaking his head before Alex even finishes his sentence. He turns to Shaan, a question in his eyes, a desperate hope that he'll have a different story for him. But Shaan only lowers his head, an apology on his tongue. "Sir, I'm so s—"</p><p>"<em>No</em>," Philip snaps. "No. Why would you—I didn't come all this way to leave without my brother."</p><p>Alex gives him a helpless look. "You <em> can't</em>."</p><p>"You're lying."</p><p>"I'm not, I'm sorry."</p><p>The dog—David, it has to be—senses Philip's distress and he runs over to him instead, climbing up his leg to nuzzle at his hand. Something vile, something angry flashes in his eyes before he turns over to the pup at his feet and he catches himself, the fury guided out of him with a forced exhale. He reaches down to scratch the top of his head and Alex can see the way realization falls over him like a coat, dragging his shoulders down with its weight. When he looks back up at him, Philip's expression is more open and guarded all the same, his eyes, so much like Henry's, bright with the first hints of moisture. </p><p>"Tell me what happened. <em> Please</em>."</p><p> </p><p>His dad convinces them to go inside, just the two of them. Shaan insists on going with them, but Philip waves him off. He doesn't seem mad at him though, so Alex has to wonder if he just doesn't want to be seen like this. Open and vulnerable. Grieving. They leave David with June and Nora, because he gets restless around distress, trained as he is to take care of it. But this isn't something a therapy dog can fix, not even one as sweet as David.</p><p>They head to Alex's room and Philip sinks down into the closest chair, his head falling in his hands, fingers clutching at his hair. He doesn’t look like a once king, he looks like a lost child, or an adult who’s spent too long pretending he could hold up more than he could stand and it all came crushing down around him. Alex can see his shoulders shake but he’s not making a sound, his grief absolute yet silent. And he never cared for Philip, even less after really getting to know Henry but he feels the urge to tell him that it’s time for him to stop burying everything under a stupid sense of dignity like this, since Henry can’t be there to say so himself.</p><p>But before Alex can say anything, if he would, Philip lifts his head up just enough to meet his gaze, his eyes red-rimmed when his cheeks are dry. “Did he—did he suffer?”</p><p>The question sends a fresh wave of pain on Alex’s stomach. He’s not sure there will ever come a day when he doesn’t find new things to hurt him. And he thinks back to the last few days, to the high fevers, the full-body tremors, to all the confusion and the sadness and the tears. He thinks back to the pain but what stays with him most is how it ended.</p><p>Alex swallows. “A little,” he forces out, unwilling to lie. “But he was smiling at the end.”</p><p>Philip lets his eyes fall closed as he turns his own signet ring around his finger, similar to the one that presses hot against Alex's skin. "What happened exactly?" he dares to ask.</p><p>So he tells him. He tells him <em> everything</em>. If a memory of Henry is going to travel back home with his brother, it's going to be the real one. And he doesn't know if it was the apocalypse that knocked some sense into Philip, or the fact that Henry is well and truly gone, but he says nothing, not even when he asks what they were to each other, and Alex admits for the first time since telling Henry that he loved him with everything he had. Philip says nothing, just studies him for a second, another layer of his expression crumbling at whatever he finds.</p><p>"Where..." Philip's voice is coarse and he clears his throat before he tries again. "Where is he now? Where did you...?"</p><p>Shame flashes hot through him, tears springing to his eyes for the first time since he started this recount. He thought he had no more tears left to shed. How stupid. He would never not have something left to give for Henry Wales. "We didn't have a choice," he admits. "We had to-to bury him there. Shaan can tell you exactly where we were. Hell, I'm sure he'll take you if you asked. Oh, but..." Alex reaches for his chain then stops; can he really bring himself to part with it?</p><p>He spares a look over at Philip. He looks exhausted, and suddenly Alex remembers not only that he crossed an ocean to get here and find <em> nothing </em> but that he also left a family behind that's anxiously waiting for their return. And for more than just Philip, he does it for Bea, and for Henry's mom who has already lost so, so much. Alex slips the chain from his neck and hands the signet ring over to Philip.</p><p>But he doesn't take it. "No. Keep it."</p><p>"Are you serious?"</p><p>"We have our own. And we can remember him through them without the need for his too. Keep it. If you meant as much to him as you claim, then he would rather you have it." Philip sighs, resting his elbows on his knees, his head tucked inward. "And I'm <em> so </em> tired of refusing him what he wants."</p><p>Neither mentions the wrong use of tense. Alex takes the win and though he doesn't say thank you, Philip knows his silence is his gratitude.</p><p> </p><p>Philip doesn't go home empty-handed after all. In the time it takes for him and Shaan to visit Henry's grave and come back so they can start their journey home, Alex goes through all the stuff left over in their backpacks. And he can't believe he ever forgot about it, and it tears his heart apart as he goes through it but he knows, once he's done with it that this is something that belongs to Henry's life before Alex. To Bea and Pez, and the rest of his family.</p><p>So when Philip comes back and it's time to say goodbye, Alex presses the small journal in his hand and says nothing, except a wish for good luck and a safe journey home. If only Philip did the same.</p><p>"Thank you. For being there for him."</p><p>Alex swallows past the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep him safe."</p><p>Philip doesn't deny it but he doesn't press it either. He pats him on the shoulder once and turns away. "Take care of yourself, Alexander. You went a long way to make it here."</p><p>It occurs to him, as he watches Philip and Shaan board the plane that he's never going to see either of them again. And by the time the thought connects it's far too late to do anything about it.</p><p>Later that night, when he's stuck in his room with June as the monsters rampage outside, Alex gets a very familiar visitor. And he's so done, so tired, so utterly torn open and stapled back together again wrong, that when he hears that unholy, distorted version of his name, he stops caring.</p><p>June looks shocked, face paling at the sound of her brother's name outside the windows but Alex scrambles out of bed, a rampage in his heart to swallow up the pain that has only grown larger.</p><p>"Come here, you fucking bastard! I know it was you! I know you were out there that night!"</p><p>Alex runs to the living room, his sights on the door before his dad rushes in and  grabs him by the waist. "What are you doing? Alex. Alex!"</p><p>"Let go!" He thrashes, slipping out of his grip if only because Oscar is too shocked by his behavior and he catches him off guard. "I need to—I have to—"</p><p>"<b> <em>ALLEX</em> </b>"</p><p>Alex laughs, the sound spilling from his lips like blood from a wound. "It's actually getting better at pronouncing it. <em> YOU FUCKER</em>!" He grabs one of the few wooden chairs left standing and slams it on the ground until it breaks, ignoring the protests from June and his dad and Leo and his mom who have spent the nights with him ever since he came back wrong.</p><p>"Alex, what are you doing? Stop," June pleads, reaching for his arm but he backs away. If they hold him again he might actually listen. And he doesn't want to listen. There's a fury in his heart that's burning hot, so bright that it can cover the pain just for a moment. So stark he can feel alive just for a bit.</p><p>Instead, he grabs a dishtowel from the kitchen and some of their leftover gasoline and fashions everything into a makeshift torch at his disposal.</p><p>"<b>AALEX</b>"</p><p>"I'm coming, you bastard!" He turns to the door but finds a barricade of people, blocking his exit with more force than they keep the monsters out. "Move out of the way."</p><p>"Honey, I know you're in pain," his mother says, stepping forward, her hands offered in a gesture of peace, "but you're scaring us. Please calm down."</p><p>Alex is shaking his head, already looking for a way around her when June joins her. "If you don't care about yourself, remember that you can't open the door. You're going to get us all killed."</p><p>"I'll have the torch on, you'll close it behind me, it won't make a difference."</p><p>"Alex—" Oscar tries.</p><p>"No!" He snaps, the sound emptying his chest and the longer he stands still, the more the fire weakens and fades, revealing the clawing darkness inside. "I need to do this. You don't understand."</p><p>"It's too dange—"</p><p>"I made it this far! I've had to keep pushing a damn door closed the entire night so they wouldn't go in, I know how fucking dangerous they can be!" His mom's expression crumbles and he knows there will be guilt for that later but for now he lets the flames eat it up too along with the rest of his heart. "I also know that this fucker has been following me around since day one and I am <em> done</em>."</p><p>"Alex—"</p><p>"Let him."</p><p>All eyes turn to Leo, who squirms under the scrutiny but doesn't take back his words. "Let him try. He's right. He made it this far."</p><p>"Yes, minus a friend," his mom lets slip. Her eyes widen in shock once she realizes what she says. Guess they're even. "I just want you—"</p><p>Alex flicks a lighter on the wrapped up dishtowel, letting the gasoline take it up in flames, and then they have to let him out, for he won't put out the fire and they need to get rid of the foul-smelling smoke.</p><p>"Be careful," his dad says, as he pries the last board away. "Don't die."</p><p>"Wasn’t planning on it."</p><p>The door opens in front of him and of course that unholy thing is not waiting for him there. His mom tries to call him back when she notices it, but Alex is far from done. Alex takes a few steps forward, the torch held as close to his side as possible. He hears the door close behind him and maybe this wasn't such a great idea but he's nothing if not committed.</p><p>"Where are you fucking piece of shit?"</p><p>"<b><em>AAlexx</em></b>."</p><p>"There you go."</p><p>Alex turns to the sound and there it is. A shadow, a nightmare, long ancient limbs that stretch and twist, growing like roots spreading with no ground, so they can spread, invade on everything they want. Alex has never seen one so close. He blinks and the wind curls at his feet, the shadow closer, waiting, watching.</p><p>And Alex doesn't fucking care.</p><p>"What? You won't fucking eat me?" He sneers. "Not good enough for you to dig your fucking claws into me to make me sick? To make me <em> suffer</em>?"</p><p>The shadow doesn't move. Its friends are starting to surround them and Alex tenses at their presence.</p><p>"Are you looking for Henry?" Alex asks, his voice rising. "He's fucking gone, you piece of shit! He's dead! He's fucking dead!"</p><p>The thing shivers, an odd vibrating motion that starts from its top all the way down, its shape snapping and twitching as it goes. Then it screeches, an inhuman sound, metal scraping against glass. Alex almost drops the torch from the shock but it makes its friends scatter in search for other victims.</p><p>"You have to be fucking kidding me!" Alex shouts because he doesn't want to be quiet anymore. "What do you want from me? Huh? You already took everything! Everything! You took him!"</p><p>"<b><em>Aalex</em></b>"</p><p>"SHUT UP! He's dead! He's fucking dead, okay?"</p><p>And once he starts yelling, he doesn't know how to stop.</p><p>"Because I had him leave with me!"</p><p>"Because I wanted to spend the night!"</p><p>"Because I didn't fucking listen!"</p><p>"Because I didn't—"</p><p>"—I didn't kiss him first..."</p><p>Alex falls to his knees, his torch lowered, but even though the monster comes closer, the edges of its figure reaching like a wave and almost touching him, it doesn't hurt him. "He's dead."</p><p>"<em>ALEX</em>!" It screams and this time it's almost real.</p><p>"HE'S DEAD!" He screams just as loudly. "AND IT'S MY FUCKING FAULT! Why didn't you kill me? It was <em> my </em> idea!" </p><p>Alex screams until his voice is gone, and he screams until the first rays of the sun chase the shadow away in the morning. He screams, and by the end of it, the thing has learned another word, another sound to place next to his name.</p><p>WHY. ALLEXX. WHYY. WHYY.</p><p>Why. Why. Why.</p><p>Alex why.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to lie on the pavement but some childhood instinct led him to climb up on the roof. The world is only a fraction easier when he doesn't reach the ground, but even that extra breath is a blessing for a world as heavy as the one he's living in.</p><p>That's where she finds him.</p><p>"What the fuck are you doing here?" Alex asks, lying against the roof tiles, his hands behind his head.</p><p>"I wanted to see what happened to you."</p><p>Alex's laugh is bitter and borderline cruel, and if he had any space left for anything other than exhaustion and pain maybe it would scare him. "How did <em> that </em> work out for you, Lisa?"</p><p>Lisa lowers herself next to him, her knees tucked close to her chest. He has no idea how long she's been in Texas but the shadows in her eyes, the trembling edge of her lips, tell him she knows before she even says it. "I'm sorry about Henry."</p><p>"What happened to you?" He asks instead because he can't, won't talk about it anymore.</p><p>"I didn't find my aunt," she whispers, staring ahead, just off the edge of the roof. "I don't know if she was killed or is out there looking for me, or something else. And I realized how much it <em> sucks </em> not to know after all."</p><p>
  <em> At least I'll know what happened to you. </em>
</p><p>Alex closes his eyes against the pain. "Might be better than getting someone killed," he croaks out.</p><p>"You didn't get him killed. He was a grown-ass man. Implying that he died because of your decision is insulting and if he was here he'd yell at you for it."</p><p>"How the fuck would you know?"</p><p>"Am I wrong?"</p><p>"Shut up," he tells her but suddenly he can't stop talking. "I got him out of that hotel because I wanted to know what happened to him. And you know what? I should have left him there."</p><p>"So he could have died alone?"</p><p>"You don't know that he would," Alex hisses, finally turning to her fully, fury in his eyes.</p><p>"Well, you don't know that he wouldn't. No, <em> shut up</em>." It's her turn now and she holds a hand to stop him. "Henry loved you. Any idiot could have seen that."</p><p>"Except for me," Alex scoffs.</p><p>"<em>Most </em> idiots could have seen that." She smiles and damn her, his huff is almost humorous. "He was happy with you. Even at his worst. Instead of fixating on things you can't possibly know, hold on to the things you do. Hold on to <em> that</em>."</p><p>Alex looks at her, really looks at her, and though he knows so little about what her life was like before the end, he sees the understanding in her eyes, a sympathy that's too real to be anything but lived in. "What do I do?" he whispers, hoping she has already figured that out.</p><p>"You move on. You don't have a choice."</p><p>"I don't know how."</p><p>Lisa shrugs. "Nobody ever does. You just pretend to until you learn."</p><p>"Lis, that sounds like bullshit."</p><p>She gestures to the space around them. "Present to me your other options." Wallow in misery doesn't sound like an answer she would appreciate, so he says nothing, turning the words over in his mind. "What's the next step, Alex? Your To-Do list."</p><p>Alex goes still. A list. A <em> list</em>.</p><p>A list of things Alex Claremont-Diaz still has to do at the end of the world:</p><ol>
<li>Apologize to his family.</li>
<li>Visit Henry's grave.</li>
<li>Turn it into something he would actually enjoy, even a little.</li>
<li>Finish the damn book they started reading together even if it's complete trash.</li>
<li>Teach the monster more words just to see if he can.</li>
<li>Find out why it didn't kill him. Find out more about them so maybe he can—</li>
</ol><p><strike> maybe </strike>—</p><ol>
<li>Maybe he can make the world a little better. (Maybe he can fix it).</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>Alex pushes himself to his feet, offering a hand to help her up too. She smiles at him, a question in her eyes.</p><p>"I have an idea." He feels the weight of the ring on his chain, and it lets it mark more than just pain. It marks his purpose. <em> Fuck this unforgiving universe, and do our own thing despite it. </em>That was what he told Henry. He could at least keep that promise. "Go on ahead, I'll be down in a second."</p><p>Only after he's alone on the roof does he pry the ring from the chain, slipping the top knuckle of his index through it.</p><p>"I told you I wanted you to come so I'd know what happened to you," he whispers into the air, hoping the breeze would guide the words where he needed them to go. "It was true, even though at the time I didn't know what that really meant... And yet, it was the wrong thing to say. That's not why I'm glad you came with me."</p><p>He presses the ring to his lips, and the metal is warm against his skin, like comfort, like love. "You know what I should have said? At least I'll get to know you."</p><p>"I'm so <em> glad </em> I got to know you. Thank you for coming with me."</p><p>
  <em> I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. </em>
</p><p>"I love you."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Content Warning:</p><p>Major Character Death</p><p> </p><p>Uh. So did you, um, like it? I tried to end it on a hopeful note. And to beat you to the question <i> salt, why </i> around chapter umm 10 I think I got the idea that it actually made better sense within the narrative and the genre I was writing for Henry to have died throughout the story itself. There was a lot of foreshadowing in the early chapters for a bad ending and the apocalyptic genre is usually not nice enough to leave everyone alive anw. SO I wanted to see if I could prove this was the better ending. After writing it? Not sure if better, but I did enjoy it quite a bit. This was over 9k, y'all XD  Leeet me know what you thought?</p><p>I'm also available on tumblr for all your screaming needs @ saltfics!</p><p>Finally, we only have the epilogue of the good ending left and then we're done!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>. . . soooo, what did you think?</p><p>My estimate is that this will be around ten chapters, but I'm so bad at estimating things. XD Also the oneshot was one of my least popular fics and I'm very Concerned TM about starting a multichap based on it, so please let me know what you thought! If you think it worked better as just the one thing, I'd like to know that too! Thank you!</p><p>That's all for now. You can always come find me on tumblr @ saltfics !! Till next time~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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